I... I know...?

I know I shouldn't ask
I know the answer
I know, but I don't know, so I ask.

And even if I knew, and I knew it for truth
I really didn't know, so I asked. And found out I did know.

So, in the end, I know how I feel
and I know that I know
but I don't know what I feel
or how I know, or even if I really know.

And never quite sure, never quite safe, never quite certain,
I spend hours being happily lost
and knowing I'm lost, and loss would sadden me
then in a minute I get truth, which I had in my hand, thrown at my face.

And I notice it!
And... loss does sadden me.

Complex world, this one...
But as my big brother said: If we were simple enough we could understand ourselves, we'd be so stupid we couldn't handle the information. Or something like that, I'm paraphrasing here.