10:24 AM >> The Beard?

Here's a tiny little essay I wrote in my truck on a recent trip to Athens, GA to visit a friend. While it is dangerous, most of my tiny little essays are written while driving. As of yet, I haven't wrecked as a result of one. I have, however, wrecked as a result of exploding bladder, stupidity, rain, and poorly placed pylons at the bank. Here we are >>

Is the beard anymore a sign of wisdom and age than it is of laziness? Day after day fullness is cultivated, and while time passes feelings are hidden. They grow fallow blanketed in mask. They burn inside unseen. The face looks lonely, contemplative, like a man in old age pondering life. He is content to let nature course as it will. Without daily grooming a tangle of ends prevails. Fidgity hands are drawn to it in concentration. In it passing years are nested.

It is the symbol of ill-managed sloth or scholarly intellect? Is the genius victim to undeterminateness? Is the beggar only being humble on the verge of some great expound? Who am I beneath this beard? What does it conceal? What does it exude?