A vile mind
I sometimes marvel at the machinations of the mind, the workhouse of activity too vast for expression in word and in deed.
This factory whose gates are closed to all but the principal is at its worst, a snake pit of poisoned prejudices, a cockroach haven of distaste, and a rat’s nest of disgust.
The things we see and hear that are processed in the mind yet tempered by good judgement in what we do is a sign of not only maturity, but of the unique advanced cognitive and reasoning capabilities of the human-being.
A managed mind
It is why we never really say what we are thinking or find ways to say what we are thinking in order not to cause offence or to be seen as stupid.
It is for this that many are grateful that whatever goes on in the mind usually stays in the mind, screened from prying eyes and disconnected from the presumed hacking genius of supposed mind-readers. Just the horror of having your mind read out aloud.
A better mind
At the same time, we are all capable of thinking better thoughts, of good, of niceness, of beauty, of consideration, of wisdom and of love. We can direct our thoughts in such a way that it does not dictate the wrong actions.
Yet, the mind is what it is, a factory whose function is only really known when the products come out at the end of the line.