There are fleeting thoughts for fleeting moments. It’s just such a pity that those fleeting moments are often fleeting because it occurs in moments of distraction when all I can do is make a mental note to immerse myself in it later, only to forget what it was. The loss I feel at that point is just as fleeting. It ‘s like a moment of resignation rather than regret.
If the sighs of my mind were to surface, I think it would suppress even the spirit of a drunk.
A collection of thoughts don’t make a bouquet of sanity, but a bouquet of sanity, if not peppered with insanity, would be nothing more than a bunch of wilting lilies. Sanity has no purpose but to challenge insanity, and so it must stand that insanity has greater purpose than sanity, and that is to challenge and oppose, without which the benefit of sanity will be lost.
Random thoughts are never random. They’re a chorus of struggles from the depths of my mind that each seem to reach up and tear at my consciousness hoping for attention, but often drowned out by practicality and restraint.
Good behaviour is only good relative to the one defining the acceptable standard. What if good behaviour was in fact bad, but the model of reference was too distorted to lend any semblance of sanity to the equation?
Sanity is most celebrated when it conforms with the conformers. Challenge the balance and insanity prevails. Insanity demands a conscious response, because no two insanities are alike. So if two insanities meet on equal terms, then sanity must be born.
Sincerity is a currency, and so is reciprocation. Both exist quite amicably side by side, although neither indulges the other except without deliberate intent. Intent therefore is laced with insincerity, although such insincerity can easily be deemed meritorious.
Merit does not a man make, since merit does not reflect intent. To judge its merits is subjective at best, but more realistically is a selfish indulgence at worst.
The need to judge defines our needs more than the object of our critique. But the object of our critique will satiate the needs of most if the judgers are collectively sane.
Cryptic is only so when insight into the mind is lacking. Curiosity is restrained when we do not wish to indulge beyond what minimum can be demanded.
Desire to look closer echoes our need to be indulged, but such need is set aside as long as we feel unworthy of such indulgence, and thus demand no reciprocation but only appreciation in return.
Fleeting thoughts in a fleeting life seems quite at home. Home however is often elusive leaving the fleeting nature of a fleeting world to be all the comfort we should expect. Being one with the prevailing reality extends the moment that would otherwise be fleeting, while resistance makes us claw at every thread that holds hope of extending our perceptions of purpose.
Insane is one who is not understood, but more insane is the one that does not understand. Life, by design is intended to be lived, but equally by design is destined to perish. Perish while you live, or live while you perish, a thought that consumes more minds than life ever did.
The dullest candle will be the piercing light if left in isolation. The candle will simmer in sorrow never knowing what brilliance it shed.
The landmark that served as our beacon will soon enough perish. We’ll more easily choose new beacons before mourning its demise.
To understand or to be understood is not the question, for every question must have a reasonable opportunity to be answered.
Contemplation of your greatness is reflective of your stature. Puny is your stature if you contemplate yourself.
Random thoughts are never random. Life is never plain. What we see in the mirror, is rarely what we protect in the rain.
Random thoughts are random. As random as the beauty of the butterfly trails.
Fleeting thoughts, clouded minds, disrupted realities, and distasteful swines. Those that stroke gently, and those that stroke harsh, both are equally distasteful, but both are equally charmed.
Fleeting thoughts are fleeting. Random thoughts are not. The randomness of the fleeting, will linger for fleeting moments, but for so many fleeting moments, perhaps life is what is lost.