Sunday, 3 August – A tale of folly

The night last was filled with venom, frustration at those little minds which tend to impact with their smallness. Struggle as I might to reduce their effect, there it was, the replay of the mind’s noise stuck on a constant loop of ignorance. It makes you question the veracity of your purpose in such employ, when you can readily see the effects of their stupidity and ignorance in such light as to be blinded by their simplicity.

It is so true that even reasonable men can be filled with such ego as to not put their best foot forward if it should enhance others whose feet may seem better suited for the task. The realities are much more difficult than their fantasies would entail, a meanness of no purpose stuck in the afterthought of idiocy. You can see the glow of the discovery of failure in their eyes long before they can, you implore their discretion as a better part of valor, but to no avail as the monster of greed and ego surrounds their thoughts in supreme imperfection.

One would easily dispel such idiocy if only it didn’t impact and cause the imminent suffering of many at the whims of the few. So today I resolve to stand idly by and watch the imminent destruction of a valid cause, of one that I felt such passion and desire. As if the inexperienced were to be a Roman Minerva and I her owl, the simple minded fool would believe it so, yet again I stand to watch the flood of failure rush and await the sounds to see who the fool can assign blame. The owl shall truly find a home, but not in the empty statues of her court, whose absence of experience can only be surmounted by the overabundance of wasted thought, such shallow statues are sure to be as hollow as the dust that made them.

So, peace begone, I shall walk this path in the intensity for which it deserves. No forward watching angel shall there be, no wistful lines of scouts to portray a dismal end. I shall succeed despite the failings of others, and in that shall my purpose be. Such a raging flood of failure shall not impede me in my quest, such sadness in the lies told by foolish lips shall not purge me from my course. You, kind sir, may see a fool across the way, but be comforted in the fact that I shall not call you on your foolishness, shall not rail against you in your misconceptions, but shall wait patiently for the end to fall where it may. You may think yourself Goliath to my David; patience shall be my stone and persistence my sling. You shall not hear the thud or taste the dirt, you shall only know it is I who stung you.


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