The operative word here is rush. Fools do not tarry nor saunter. We rrrrrrrrrrrush into events and things that call to us. Fools are passionate souls who rush and do not dawdle and stop to think if it there is wisdom to that which they are drawn. Wise men, I gather from the scuttlebutt, do not tread in the same manner as we fools.
Neener neener, chili beaner.
I oft wonder if I would rather be a wise man (yeah, I know, a wise WOman) versus the fool that I am.
If I am to be an honest fool, then I must admit, yes, I have often pondered the idea of how it might be more practical or more effective or useful or...or... if I weren't quite the Pollyanna that I am. For it so often seems that those wise folks (or often, wisenheimer wise asses) have an easier time of things. We fools are so vulnerable in so many ways.
And yet, in the scheme of things, in the long run or any other idiom I could bandy about, I still prefer to be the wide-eyed, naive, hopeful, faithful, giddy, innocent, enthusiastic goody-two shoes person that I am. WYSIWYG --good, bad or indifferent. Perhaps, foolishly, I am rarely indifferent.
Well, I am off to refill my half glass of water now.
"Suppose the world were only one of God's jokes, would you work any the less to make it a good joke instead of a bad one? " ~George Bernard Shaw
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