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Trust is a child whose easy laughter is a joy to hear. Unabashed and pure in his innocence, he is not afraid to make a fool of itself, secure in the belief that everything will be all right.

 

Time passes. Soon this child grows up and learns to think for himself. Eventually, with each passing day, to months, to years, laughter no longer comes as easily to him as it used to, less so the smile. And whereas he used to always strive for the approval of others in his childhood, now he does all the approval himself, seeing through the imposture of a lot and the sincerity in a few.

 

Trust is as precious as childhood. It does not stay young forever. Eventually it will realize that not everything will be all right, after all, and once it does, it will make an oath never to make a fool of itself again.

Edited by Lord Superb
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Sometimes I wish I were living at a time when living was as simple as living. Nowadays, we have to 'make' a living, as though living is a thriving industry of being a consumer on one hand and being a consumee on the other. You buy and you are bought, one way or another. You consume and are consumed in turn.

Edited by Lord Superb
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Sometimes I wish I were living at a time when living was as simple as living. Nowadays, we have to 'make' a living, as though living is a thriving industry of being a consumer on one hand and being a consumee on the other. You buy and you are bought, one way or another. You consume and are consumed in turn.

 

I would not dis-agree to this brother and I admire your writings and posts by the way. I myself would like to have a time-machine and go back to the days that maybe considered plain and archaic but nevertheless full of substance. :)

 

I believe though that in today's life stage, there is still also a simple and virtuous reason that compels one to maniacally make a living. It is so that others may live as well.

 

Cheers!

Edited by Unwritten
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Happy Choose-day. Life's bullshittery may sometimes pile up so high as to rival the grandeur of Mount Everest, but, hey, you always have a choice. Will you ask for a Sherpa's wisdom and guidance, or will you simply forge on, the heck with the smell? The moment you run out of choices is the moment you give up on life and fall off the mountainside, only to wake up and realize that there was no mountain in the first place, only your list of excuses to quit.

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People are like towns. You get so comfortable living in them you forget how beautiful they are until the time that you have to leave to pursue a different direction. You will miss them -- the smell of their air, the taste of their food, the fun in their parks. But you have to grow and learn so that when you get to another place, you'll appreciate it more and the beauty it brings.

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