Mood...

One of the deepest and strangest of the human condition is the mood which will suddenly strike us perhaps beside a pool at night, or deep among the sloping meadows, the feeling that every flower and leaf has just uttered something stupendously direct and important, and that we have by a prodigy of imbecility not heard or understood it.

There is a certain poetic value, in this sense of having missed the full meaning of things. Quagmire into the materials of life and failing the big picture. I see myself as part of a system so caught up in the covetousness of everyday living, that I had failed to realize the allusion of it all... In this factious decorum, I have long veered past the sedated state of melancholy...

Such pulchritude, such coruscation, such intoxicating allure just interests me in so many levels... There is beauty, not only in wisdom, but in this dazed and dramatic ignorance.