Cliches have a cruel, tragic way of punishing those that laugh at them the most.
What does it mean to be intelligent? How is it different from feeling intelligent?
These days, it is not fashionable to have vague dreams, however colourful they may be. Glamour is in the specificity and pragmatism of everyday things - how effectively, how intelligently and how charmingly one does those everyday things. How much of oneself one puts into those everyday things. How one juggles and balances, walks thin lines and tight ropes, takes charge and leaps to success. How one is a circus animal one moment and the ring master the next.
Intellect is wearily sweeping the way forward for intelligence, wisdom for knowledge.
Most relationships go the way of volcanoes - bubbling along merrily at first, then flowing like lava, molten and mobile with possibility, then sooner than later defined by sound and fury, followed by coagulation, silence.
Good conversation can be likened to a river... flowing strong at first, swift and unpredictable, full of excitement and intensity, ideas first tumbling thunderously down slops of discovery, then given to some lazy meandering across the plains of familiarity, only to spread its arms and go peaceably into the open sea.
Writing is a way for transient things like mind and soul to be made to feel substantial. I often wonder - what solid thing can be forged from scattered and ephemeral thoughts? Then I think - this.
On this orange day
Look out from the high window
But try not to jump.
A trip to the moon
This life that we are living
Let us seek some peace.
What does it mean to be intelligent? How is it different from feeling intelligent?
These days, it is not fashionable to have vague dreams, however colourful they may be. Glamour is in the specificity and pragmatism of everyday things - how effectively, how intelligently and how charmingly one does those everyday things. How much of oneself one puts into those everyday things. How one juggles and balances, walks thin lines and tight ropes, takes charge and leaps to success. How one is a circus animal one moment and the ring master the next.
Intellect is wearily sweeping the way forward for intelligence, wisdom for knowledge.
Most relationships go the way of volcanoes - bubbling along merrily at first, then flowing like lava, molten and mobile with possibility, then sooner than later defined by sound and fury, followed by coagulation, silence.
Good conversation can be likened to a river... flowing strong at first, swift and unpredictable, full of excitement and intensity, ideas first tumbling thunderously down slops of discovery, then given to some lazy meandering across the plains of familiarity, only to spread its arms and go peaceably into the open sea.
Writing is a way for transient things like mind and soul to be made to feel substantial. I often wonder - what solid thing can be forged from scattered and ephemeral thoughts? Then I think - this.
On this orange day
Look out from the high window
But try not to jump.
A trip to the moon
This life that we are living
Let us seek some peace.
2 comments:
being intelligent => intelligent and distraught/glum.
feeling intelligent => maybe not intelligent, but happy :P
Hehe.. perhaps, but feeling intelligent is tricky, it can lure you into thinking that you must pay your dues and be true to your kind by being distraught / glum all the time. :D
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