I never saw this one coming.
I ask myself sometimes whether all the work is worth it. Whether life was worth the trip. Recently I whined to my friend, “How many sun soaked rocks to I have to lay on to make all this work worth it?”
I think that my mind has been conditioned to think in terms of ‘exchange rate’, ‘return on investment’ and whether I get out of something more or less than what I’ve put into it. I move forward, daily, thinking this way without giving it much consideration. I’m a consumer, a collector, one hungry to possess and own happiness.
I’m increasingly aware that I am one of the most privileged persons on the face of the earth - the freedoms afforded me and resources within my reach are embarrassing when I consider the circumstances of others. Something is not working right - because I ought to be really fucking happy - and I’m not. Most of the people I know are not either.
When I was about 10 years old I discovered Tarnex under our kitchen sink. Compelled by
I ask myself sometimes whether all the work is worth it?