Robin Williams was really really smart and with being so, living in the real world is challenging. So, to make it better for himself, he made it funny, but funny is only good for so long, then the real world is still out there and the smart one is left alone and lonely and out of it and thought of as weird or screwy. If he had not become an actor and comedian, he would likely have been dead sooner or in the psyche ward somewhere. I get him and I get why he left.
So did Wordsworth share the genius and the feelings of wanting to stop the train and make the others pay attention, and I would like to share his famous poem as a tribute to the genius of Robin.
"THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US; LATE AND SOON" THE world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 10 So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
RIP Robin. You were a great person and thank you for shining your light so brightly.
So did Wordsworth share the genius and the feelings of wanting to stop the train and make the others pay attention, and I would like to share his famous poem as a tribute to the genius of Robin.
"THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US; LATE AND SOON" THE world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 10 So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
RIP Robin. You were a great person and thank you for shining your light so brightly.
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