There are surely enough words in this plane to describe everything to utmost clarity. There must be! I just haven't found them yet. Devouring books seems absolutely wonderful but of course I have conditions. All my life, I've preferred fiction but I'm not sure it's getting me where I want to be. Francis Bacon had a hell of a lot to say about studies. Oh, the books to be devoured, the books to be tasted and those to be swallowed. But I think I've done a little too much devouring of the wrong things and have tasted a little to less of the right things. It's all so frustrating, this business of trying to grab at all this information. Who does Bacon think he is? Why should I listen to a man with such a comical surname? Should I put myself off as too simple of a person who is satisfied with admiring studies or am I on the verge of genius? Who is to say that maybe the socially acceptable standard of studies has changed. But the time spent wondering about such foolish things doesn't really help me much. So I prefer to look at the bright side of things like this. Rather than harboring hatred for a man who silently mocks me from between the letters on a paper, I chose to make silly jokes about Bacon and accept that he was only human. I have no doubt that if a man like him lived in this age, he would take it upon himself to make sure everyone knew exactly what was on his mind. Definitely a very annoying Facebook friend. But hey, who knows?
At the end of the day, I can sit back satisfied knowing that Francis Bacon wasn't amazing for every waking moment of his existence. Looking past all that's been taught in our classrooms, I now know that he was just like the rest of us. Foolish and struggling to live a good life. His death was somewhat absurd as well. While driving on a snowy day in London, he became inspired by the idea of using snow as a meat preservative. He purchased a chicken and while trying to stuff it, contracted a fatal case of pneumonia. It would have been more amusing if it was a pig though. I kid.
I've learned not to be intimidated by someone else's spotlight because we'll end up finding our place on center stage soon enough.
At the end of the day, I can sit back satisfied knowing that Francis Bacon wasn't amazing for every waking moment of his existence. Looking past all that's been taught in our classrooms, I now know that he was just like the rest of us. Foolish and struggling to live a good life. His death was somewhat absurd as well. While driving on a snowy day in London, he became inspired by the idea of using snow as a meat preservative. He purchased a chicken and while trying to stuff it, contracted a fatal case of pneumonia. It would have been more amusing if it was a pig though. I kid.
I've learned not to be intimidated by someone else's spotlight because we'll end up finding our place on center stage soon enough.
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