The world is not a battle of philosophers.  The world is a battle of artists.

I want everyone to know who I am. 

I want no one to know who I am.

Reality is the only place where we could be, but is not the place where we have always been, and is not the place where we will stay.

Every person's universe is a fragile place; a passing comment, an unsuspecting remark, of the casual stranger and the whole thing may crack right down the middle.

Is it not the oddest thing in the world that we do not know where we are, and thus all imagine reality differently?  I am meeting my friends in one universe, while they are meeting me in another.

But there is a true account of the facts; it must be the case that someone is very good at being wrong.

The world is rigged against the unexpressive; artists are the people who can truly be known.  It is possible for you to know Beethoven more than even your best friend if he tried to explain who he is to you for hours.

But who am I?  I am a person too big to fit through my mouth.  Every person is like a piece of furniture assembled inside a house, that ends up too big to fit out the door, where the outside world would be able to see it.  Instead we must invite people over for dinner, and let them inside to look around.

But artists can make people envision the table; this is the hardest task, for how hard it is to describe something so people imagine it exactly when it is something they have never seen.

The mouth is the centerpiece of the day; most of the day consists of deciding what to say.  Quietly looking around at people's mouths, we may wonder what interesting concepts might flow out of them next.

Seeing people's teeth is the reward we get for making them happy; this shall be a primary goal.

The mouth is a gateway; in goes what we need for life, food and air.  What comes out is what we choose to do with that life, and therefore we ought to speak words of life to others.  When we complain and hate, we are thunderstorms of death over people's lives. 

Why do adults, artists and presidents of the past, never smile for their pictures?  Do they not see this as predictable?  For in-between childhood and adulthood we can see them both clearly for what they are, what it is like when we start life, and what it is like as we settle in.  Do we not see from this viewpoint the fallacy of those who have forgotten to live a joyful life?

In the yearbook of reality, would you not want to be a smiling person?  Melancholy is a part of life, but if the tomb is empty we shall have life everlasting.

But we all melt into the scenery; how sad we are determined by the way other people want and expect the world to be.  'Do not be excited to live, that is not what is normal to me.'  

Can we live in a way that is significantly different and true?  What of a joyful way of life when this is not the way other people live?

But there is nothing in the rules that says your cheering section has to be visible, so let us live and be happy there is grace.  Mercy triumphs over judgement. 

And do we not all need slapping silly before we understand what life is about?  Clearly we are not at the point where we understand; and if we were, would you be satisfied?  Is this the whole show? 

Therefore be joyful and graceful, to let others know what is the denouement of life.