Wordieword’s Weblog

Fountains of grief pour and recycle the tears of ages, these pumps let us think we are sages, with pain comes the sensation that one’s wisdom is ageless, thinking this will only leave us in cages, things so inappropriately expressed and so insufficiently defended, need not be attended to nor fended for. I wish that with experience came understanding, but the hypotheses are often contradictory, and when the solution is actually reached, the answer is so abstract as to be next to useless for the man of practice. Why bother with these solutions, when their logical rigor makes them impracticable? Maybe so that you can say that you know something and hold it like a trophy on your mantle, an intangible piece of non-sense.