I woke up feeling like I have been hit by a truck so please allow me to whine and bitch about my life just a little.
My problem is that I am working way too hard yet I can't find enough good reasons why I should continue this way. I don't see why, for example, I have to add a third degree to my other two, yet there are people with no degrees at all and they are living lives way better than mine.
Like this guy I met on the street who was happily rummaging through garbage for his food. He was in no hurry at all! No appointments, no bills, no hustles! As I watched him, he looked up and smiled and there was peace in his eyes. Probably because he had completely lost his mind with all it's attending worries. He also seemed very healthy, comfortably weighing twice as much as I did, given that he hardly even strained a muscle.
I walked away from this man, a very sad person, because I knew I did not have the courage to challenge convention and live like he did. Out of fear, I am willing to work myself to the grave just so that I can have what is considered a good lifestyle. I fear not being able to meet my obligations, or rather obligations that society has imposed on me.
So really, screw Labour day or Worker's day as they call it here in South Africa, or Hauskaa Vappua in Finland or Labor day for Americans.Labels: Failure, Prose, Trying