Jessica Bibbee

Posts Tagged ‘water’

20160731

In aphorism, bon mot, proverb on 20160731 at 23:55

The moment you decide that you deserve better is the moment that you know better—and already in this moment, you are better off.

The fool wears chains to the tune of gold—grounded in insecurity, weighted by vanity, and convinced they are better off decorated than liberated.

As if the limits of mortality were not damning enough, the fool boasts of his own. 

If a fool looks for dirt in the cleanest of waters, he is sure to succeed—if only in finding his reflection.

The fool dismisses a dozen opportunities before asking for a second chance.

Regret is the currency of the fool and the agency of the wise.

Waking up is hard to do, but it’s the only way to welcome in a new day.

What is the difference between mail and email? a LETTER

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20141002

In aphorism on 20141002 at 23:55

The silence of the many gives power to the voice the few.

Rushing water will slow.
Stagnant water will stir.

20120802

In aphorism, proverb on 20120802 at 23:59

Maintain real dialogue with those in rash disagreement, for worse than rare disaccord is rife division.

No matter which evil you are fighting, you are still fighting. To negate evil, do not entertain it, only be its antithesis.

What good is the purest of water if it will not irrigate the driest of dirt?

No one can stop you from being who you want to be, without your permission.

Turn away from darkness, but never hide your light.

The filth may stop at the bottom, but it originates at the top.

The crumbs may rest on the floor, but the loaf is cut from above.

The fool cook mops first the floor and wipes second the counter.

20120509

In aphorism, proverb, question on 20120509 at 23:58

A fish out of water is the first to evolve.

I’d rather that you are loyal to the truth, than to me. For I will change, and you may not change with me. But if I am loyal to the truth, and also are you loyal, then always will I find your loyalty near.

A half truth is a whole falsity.

There is a war between the ego and the superego that started before time itself.

If you cannot do it right, is doing it wrong better than delaying doing it or simply not doing it?

Only in the midst of hardship, does our true character.

The fool fail to see the light -lo, they are blind even to the darkness that envelops them.

Light is born in the darkness, though it is not of the darkness.

One minute, the fool in darkness; the next minute, the wise enlightened.

The fool are not below wisdom, the wise are not above foolery.

20111012

In rumination, tale on 20111012 at 13:14

《Sink or Swim》

This is the story of how a child, a boat, a voice, and a choice found each other:

On some days, the sun shines and the wind blows.

It is on these days that boats float and children dream.

On the breath of the wind, billowing white clouds moved with silent excitement across blue skies and gazed deeply over still blue waters.

Far down below, a Child found a boat, and soon found herself afloat in the boat. But for shame, as the child would soon also find herself in a boat with a leak.

The stillness of the water slowly, but surely, greeted the shell with its silent entrance.

And so the Child did what only the Child could do, and that was to lift the water out again to the expanse of the blue.

Stymied, the Child thought, “I just wanted to go for a sail, but instead, I find myself with water to bail.”

A Voice said to the child, “It seems that would make you a plumber, not a sailor.”

The truth in these words so captivated the Child’s mind that the Child didn’t stop to question from where the voice came, but continued moving the water.

With a sigh, the Child replied, “‘Tis true -but I haven’t a choice, have I? I can only hope to stay afloat. How can I even dream of sailing this boat?”

“Oh, but you do and you can!” said the Voice. “You do have the choice to go overboard or to give up your dream. But, either way, you must abandon the naiveté with which you first boarded this boat.”

In silence, the child continued to empty the water from the proa back into the blue.

“Shall you jump ship and learn to swim? Or shall you give up your dream?”

The Voice waited.

The rhythmic sound of water leaving the boat ceased.

The Child peered into the water, leaning over the edge of the boat. And for the first time, the Child caught sight of her own face in the undulating mirror.

But in doing so, the Child had rocked the boat, to the point that more water threatened to claim its whole. And without thinking, the Child quickly returned to the center of the boat, seeking balance and stability.

The rocking slowed, and the Child at last spoke. “I must lead with my brain, but I must also follow my heart.”

Splash! The boat rocked once more.

And the silence that ensued was followed only by a ripple so large that spread so far, that its waves reached well beyond the limits of her shore.

20110730

In aphorism, linguistics, proverb on 20110730 at 09:40

Every artist needs an agent.

Language is spectacular for the reason that it doesn’t need to make sense in order for it to have meaning.

The fool continue to water the shriveled plant.

The fool close their eyes to deny the darkness of night, as delusional in the absence of light as the ostrich who invites the night by burying his head in the sand at midday.

A fool farmer asks the rooster not to crow.

The fool silence the siren, suppressing a response in a deluded effort to deny a disaster.

Freedom is sacrificed in the name of safety and security, which are victim only to pride and honor.

20110729

In aphorism, chinese, proverb, rumination on 20110730 at 09:39

Math follows rule; language follows reason.

青竹清水。
(Green bamboo, clear water.)

20110703

In aphorism, proverb on 20110704 at 10:20

The fool prematurely kills off the sickly plant that simply needed pruning, watering, and nurturing.

The fool sooner pulls a seedling than waters it, fearing it a weed and too impatient to find it a rose.

Prune the rose bush back to the ground, and watch her grow back stronger and more beautiful yet.

To avenge is to have mercy on; to ignore is to torture.

A mountain without a valley is but an elevated plain.

A mountain is born of its valley.

Remove choice from others and bear responsibility alone.

A single grain of sand weathers the beating of the entire ocean.

20110111

In haiku, poetry on 20110111 at 04:00

Water droplets shall fall / freely from the sky, and / even the stone clouds shall cry.

20101227

In tale on 20101227 at 15:33

《Flawed in the Eye of a Bumptious Camel》

In a land where the sun shone without reprieve, there once was a Camel so proud, that he would spit at the sight of another animal. For in his eyes, the others -they were all flawed.

A Little Bird, ever observant, came to rest on the head of the Camel. “Who are you spitting at today, dear Camel?”

The bumptious Camel responded with a huff, “Ha! Who does that Elephant think she is?” With a spit in the Elephant’s direction, he continued. “What a silly nose, it nearly hangs on the ground!”

The Little Bird smirked with wisdom unknown to the Camel, and responded, “Dear Camel, that long silly nose of the Elephant is quite a useful tool, don’t you see? She gathers water like a hose. And when no water there is, like a trumpet, she bellows!”

The bumptious Camel hesitated in concession but for a moment, turning next to the Lion. “Look at that scruff! Can’t a Lion tame his own mane?” And the Camel spit.

The Little Bird with a smirk, followed, “Dear Camel, that mangy mane not only makes it look kingly above all the other animals, but can you fancy it with a bob cut?”

The bumptious Camel could not disagree and chuckled at the thought of a better-groomed Lion.

But he quickly straightened his face and forced another spit, saying, “But what about the Giraffe? Such a long, gangling neck –what is a head doing so far from its feet?”

The Little Bird explained, “Dear Camel, when the rains visit no more, and food is scarce –only the Giraffe can reach those yet green leaves, so high up in the sky.”

Once more, the Camel scrambled to save the last of his all-knowing pride, and said, “The Rhino –what can be said of that sore-looking horn, smack in the middle of its mug!”

But the Little Bird was no shorter of words than she was of wisdom. “Dear Camel, that unsightly adornment of a horn might be nothing to look at, but it serves her well when intruders threaten with presence.”

Conceding at last, the Camel asked the Little Bird, “And what about you? What is your forte that feigns a flaw?”

The Little Bird asked, “Who me?” and with tilted head, paused in thought before responding, “Why… these scrawny legs of mine, I suppose. They aren’t much to look at, either -are they!”

The Camel timorously chuckled in agreement.

“But, when I fly…” the Little Bird expounded, “… ’tis as if I fly without the weight of any legs, -free to soar where’er the wind dares me!”

And with these words, the Little Bird set out for a spin, spreading her wings and tucking those scrawny legs right out of sight. This talent pleased the Camel, causing him to look down at his own not-so-scrawny legs.

But before the Camel could sputter a word, the Little Bird interjected, “Oh Camel, your legs are just fine, strong as the quadruped that you are! Your forte feigning flaw is not your knock knees, but only what you yourself cannot see.”

The Little Bird landed once again on the Camel’s forehead, this time facing backwards, her own tail dangling just in view of the Camel’s eyes.

At this, the Camel was instantly flummoxed, but equally intrigued.

With eyebrows now disheveled, he goaded the Little Bird, “Alright, Legs. Enough with empty accusations; Enlighten me, if you think you may!”

The Little Bird peered backwards over the Camel and said, “Have you ever wondered why you cannot roll around and scratch your back on the grasses of these barren plains, like the other quadrupeds?”

The Camel was dumbstruck, for the Little Bird had spoken the truth –though he had never paused to reason why.

“Look at this back of yours, Camel. It’s got a big bump on it, like you’ve been stuffed with a pillow!” The Little Bird bounced up and down on the noticeable bump.

The Camel spit in denial, then dropped his jaw with waning disbelief. He craned his neck to the side in search, as he realized that he’d never ever even seen this so-called bump. And he found his neck to be just long enough to catch a glimpse of what was indeed a most un-smooth bump. The Camel’s eyebrows settled into a heap of newfound shame.

The Little Bird flew up to this bump and said, “Dear Camel –this bump of a hump of yours, this flaw –is your forte.”

The Camel perked up a bit with hope enough to relieve his mounting shame. “Do enlighten me, Little Bird!”

“This hump of yours explains why you alone can brave the desert sands, without hint of oasis, for days on end. This bulky bump of a hump is but a reservoir, with water enough to endure time itself in light of the blazing sun!”

And this time, the Camel smiled a –no longer bumptious– smile and said, “Hey, Legs- so wise are you! Now, I see… the only flaw of mine, was in the sight of my eyes!”