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Man is a glass, empty and clean, with no guile, malice, pride, or deceit, nothing but potential. That is, until he walks through this world of sense. Held, he becomes slave to all six of his masters. Clinging to him with every debase thing which leeches onto his vulnerabilities. Vexed of all manner of imaginations, and delusions of self. Accompanied by, reasonings of which those have vexed his virgin soul to the enclosure of flesh itself. So, longing to be free and unencumbered but with gain. |
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Just a good thing that we have dish-washers these days! |
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“What a peculiar privilege has this little agitation of the brain which we call 'thought'” -Hume
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