Forty dollars, a borrowed axe, and his favorite book: progress observed of one's own.

Would that you had become a foe of the people, and I would recognize thee, not in your accomplishments or character, but by simply examining your cage.

Thoreau was college educated.

Impressum:

-Owned and operated a school that quickly failed financially.

-Was Ralph Waldo Emerson's house servant.

-Spent a year living in the woods with only $40, a borrowed axe and his favorite book.

-Famously refused to pay his local poll tax.

This resume, one of the luminaries of American History:  would we distinguish these kinds of failings and the outward appearance of a lack of hustle?  A man pronounced of much empty time; all the while, he was contemplating.

I set about to me to end of certain here unspecificed perturbations and various ministrations--I reminded myself of things we care, that come to dominating our intention.  Further, that to follow a crowd was easily to welcome a common fate--not that there was wrong with that, but first premise:  The man on the beach arguing that the average pebble was as unique and worthwhile a creation as a pocket watch.  At which time, the prokopton happened by and asked who directed set him to such a peculiar inquiry and theorem.  The beachcomber replied that he had put himself there and to the query of creation--

the philosopher replied:  "Then you gainsay, are lead by a bad man."

One reminds himself that the critic is always at the mercy of his own heat--and in respect to such, we have a ambient heat from that fever of mind of his.

There is the saddle horn that keeps us on the horse, and the straps will control the beast; we are decide to which we hold--its runs discordant to following along pleasantly as a content, well-adjusted fish in upon a river.  Again, if we follow along with them, we may with certainty project a concurrent outcome.  This we must heed well, as of making an informed, circumspect choice.

Of my own:

-A three-part combination exercise.

-Inflicting my values on web surfers.

-Seeing to the the regular business of life.

-Preparation for "tax season".

-My ass.

Such is matters of life: 

one moment we are engorging delicious fried foods-

- we blink, dystopia.  As reasonable people,  we next protrude in argument-

-we glimpse our snarling in their eyes--

-and in our own words, we find we have became our grossest enemy.