Profoundity

If, in the time allocated to wasteful relaxation, profound thought is discovered, it must of course be at a wasted time that the body is too lax, the mind too sloth, to record the enlightened thought. Because, at the time the epiphany occurs, the body is naturally left behind and the mind struggles to recall the body's mechanical dexterity to record the fleeting thought, the moment of brilliance, and, blessed thought by nature, is floundering, opaque, a shadow, not the bright calling as in its birth but a reminicence of a thought: made so by the effort of summoning a pen, a keyboard, a recorder.
So is the descriptions of the feelings, the expressions of joy and of suffereing, of many emotions, a fleeting or lining of the emotions expressed outwardly. So, when I am melancholy, when I am joyous, doubt only the validity of those emotions you do not wish to desire in me, or even those that you don't desire. The rest are as fleeting as the shade of a snow bank in April. This is even more true as the snow approaches Mei. For the cold attitude, the darkness does not exist...only a comparative absence of heat, of light, of expressed happiness.
The title=profoundity is my form of profanity?