Prove Me Wrong Please.

People don't generally think this about me. They think I'm stubborn. They think I'll argue to the bitter end because I hate being wrong.

The truth is, I love being proven wrong. Its distinctly the reason I argue so heatedly about things I think. I love it when someone proves me wrong. When they fire back with a passion that equals mine, with a rationality that defeats my own. That is why I travel, it is why I live, it is why I talk to people. To prove what I think I know wrong. To always be learning. To think something new. To learn that my long-held idea that the earth is flat is ridiculous, that it is round, and then to learn that that isn't right either, the earth is an oblate spheroid, what will it be next?

It is the simplest form of pain in history; the pain of change. A change in what you thought was right, a change in the way you thought the universe worked, a change in how you liked your world to work. But the pain of change always leads to something different, a new adventure born. The day you know everything, you might as well stop.

Prove me wrong.
Teach me something new.
Show me a new way.
Start a new adventure.