The myths are all musty. To echo Sam Goldwyn, “What we need is some new myths.”
2 comments:
Anonymous
said...
In this life, there are those who follow the leader who is in search of followers to follow him to help him find his way; in addition, there are those who wait to follow those waiting to follow others who want to follow somebody else completely different, but who hasn’t arrived yet; moreover, there are those who wait to follow those who follow those who also stand and wait waiting for something more; furthermore, there are even those followers who march in an intrepid manner most suited to those who follow the followers who march to a different drum, but they themselves would probably prefer to play the tambourine; while also, conversely, and perhaps more relevantly, there are also those who follow those who wait for the followers of those followers who follow them, but are perhaps more hesitant about it, just to be safe; however, all these followers, in being followers, all have one thing in common: they are all followers of somebody else’s dream, not mine.
2 comments:
In this life, there are those who follow the leader who is in search of followers to follow him to help him find his way; in addition, there are those who wait to follow those waiting to follow others who want to follow somebody else completely different, but who hasn’t arrived yet; moreover, there are those who wait to follow those who follow those who also stand and wait waiting for something more; furthermore, there are even those followers who march in an intrepid manner most suited to those who follow the followers who march to a different drum, but they themselves would probably prefer to play the tambourine; while also, conversely, and perhaps more relevantly, there are also those who follow those who wait for the followers of those followers who follow them, but are perhaps more hesitant about it, just to be safe; however, all these followers, in being followers, all have one thing in common: they are all followers of somebody else’s dream, not mine.
Nice to encounter a tambourine in that long sentence.
Post a Comment