Wisdom.

Another golden mouldy Facebook status update from a couple of years ago.

I get hung up on words. I keep coming back to meditations upon wisdom. I meet people of late and unwittingly I think to myself, "Gosh, you're wise." It's not a word much used any more. Archaic and vague with a hint of stifled chuckle behind the hand. But I like wisdom. I miss it, if ever I've encountered it. I like the longevity - the way forward - it implies, in spite of a tacit and hazardous status quo that never really exists or existed. I like the historical neatness of it. I like the wry Aristotelian staunchness in the subtext of that one word and the stuffiness and immutability of its measure. I may yet use it in something, that word. A song, a scribble or scrawl, a blog rant. Who knows, I may become a late bloomer graffiti artist and use it as my tag.
But until then, I'll simply go on mulling it over and over.
Because this is what the unwise do.

Incidentally, if you enjoy this rubbish I post, please drop by on Facebook and say hello.

https://www.facebook.com/malcolm.connell.58

Mind