the archaeologist, the philosopher | immature, impossible | outspoken, pensive | churns out the most typical critical thoughts, speaks of themes and symbols and irony | sees out to oust others and to define otherness and holier than thou attitude, laughs in one-liners of simple universal truths | tangled, unfazed | passionate, blithe |
and yet you feel nerved by every great soul. the admission of one is crucial to the acknowledgment of weakness on your part because you, are lacking in every single aspect, unable to write to read to speak anything, unable to love or to declare love, incapable to lead to recite, to speak before others and to crack a joke or two to be merry to to live like all those dead people you admire and aspire to.
and our will must be greater than others.
not our ego to speak out, to astound people with our knowledge and uniqueness in search for self validation.
but our passion and eagerness in truthfulness to speak honestly in order to seek truth, to solve all our speculations and problems that we turn over and over in our minds for days and night.
but first, give avenue for other people to speak
one must listen in order to learn,
do not be in love with your own voice,
to cackle ardently while the dead set of eyes
angelically patient stare squarely at your face
you can have reign in your own space
but in the meeting of another soul
one communes and thoughts are exchanged
and remember that even if they do not read as much as you do (you false fool),
their passions are truer than yours.
their purpose are clearer than yours.
their manners are better than yours.
perkaraperkara 