| Tuesday |
| just talking shit. |
I had once upon a time rested my belief on Nutri-grain cereal packets, trusting that you only get out what you put it. Perhaps that belief should still stand. But it stands quietly, and almost invisibly. Unknown. Foreign.
How pleased we are with life is not merely determined by what happens to us, it is also determined by what we expect to happen to us. To put in but not expect. To sacrifice but have no reciprocation.
A freshly sharpened knife cuts deeply into a healing wound. The seeping of blood returns, but it will mend. An ugly scar it will be to carry. Hidden, covered, masked, but never shown. An embrassment? A constant reminder?
Every scar carries with it a tale. A tale that may never be fully revealed in the short course of our lifetime, but carried to the grave nonetheless. With the scar comes strength, comes wisdom, comes knowledge, memories and thoughts.
The traps and snares of modern life have made the pleasures that are right there in front of us so much harder to recognise. We only need to take a step back and open our eyes. Easier said than done.
If you want to be happy for an hour, take a nap.
If you want to be happy for a day, go fishing.
If you want to be happy for a month, get married.
If you want to be happy for a year, inherit a fortune.
If you want to be happy for a lifetime, help someone else.
I'm going to take a long nap. |
posted by sciurine @ 1:59 AM   |
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| ABOUT |
Thoughts, ...flowing slowly and gracefully, ...awakening the senses, ...keeping you up in the night, I sometimes wonder why people write. To express? To reflect? To be heard? I write, to free myself from a world of thoughts.
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