To be more precise I am a clown on stilts,
removed from the ordinary man by a meter...I Totter...I dance...I make mischief.
I am, in sort, professionally unhappy, which is maybe why I snapped at the
one legged chaps dismissal of Hemingway as lightweight.
I ask you----Really... as if there is a point.
As if intelligence is related to happiness.
I don't want to sound cynical,
I admit life is pointless, but so is death--and while life may be temporarily
pointless, I have a suspicion that death is permanent.
But life contains a range of experience for intelligent and dull alike that
you cannot hope not to enjoy .
I aspire to be a fool eventually ...
BACK HOME