A beautiful mind
Whirring smoothly while it goes through the day, chuckling to itself at the inherent ironies and silly twists that the world offers, sighing at the grandeur that the senses absorb and somersaulting on each new quirk, each newness that it discovers about its environment and its inhabitants and their paradigms.
At times, it’s like a happy kid chasing the butterflies, kicking little pebbles, catching the song of the wind in his ear and skipping through waving fields. At others, it’s an old granny sitting on a rocking chair, patiently knitting the sweater while only the sound of the ticking clock fills the air. And at times, the nutty scientist, the abandoned loon who sees what the rest of his brothers are blind to and yet he revels quietly and alone with himself the joys and secrets of this world.
While the rest of the times, it just seems to put its hand inside the “touch and tell” goody bag and excitedly describe and pull out what it feels.
Sometimes, i imagine me sitting alone with it and stripping it down naked, layer after layer. To watch as, slowly, the remaining walls crumble, and i pick off the last remaining bricks and step into where nothing else remains but it.