On a short note, isn’t it ironic that when wise people are gathered and aren’t understood by others they are thought to be foolish, ironic, eccentric, weird or antisocial; whereas where the less than wise ones are gathered, the reverse isn’t the case? 

I mean, what is wrong with our world man? Why can’t the wise just be wise in peace, and the foolish, foolish in peace? 

It’s appalling, the level of dislike, scorn and outright hatred which people can muster up all because they don’t know you. They don’t know your story, but they want you to be like them. 

A group of foolish people think they’re better than one wise man, and maybe they are, in some twisted way. But who cares? A truly wise one will always want to be left alone, while the unwise are more gregarious, seeking fated camaraderie in shared ignorance. 

But the question then is, who are you? And yes, who am I? Am I the wise, or the foolish? 

And yet that’s the beauty of life isn’t it? That we can be foolish today and wise tomorrow, wise today and foolish thereafter; and for some, foolish yesterday, today and forever more. 

Ain’t life grand.