Less than: every other man and woman I see wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase and making a success of every day life.
More than: the benefit-culture cretins who don't even try.
This is my secret outlook on daily living. I am ashamed of it, but writing it down takes the power out of it and casts an interrogative beam on just how ridiculous and self-centred it is.
Lately I have been very angry indeed. Angry at the man who stops suddenly in front of me when I am pushing a 25 kilo backpack on an airport trolley. Angry at the cheese sticking to the microwave bowl i just used. Angry at my dad for being continuously angry. Angry at the fact that, despite being thinner than Melinda Messenger and having x times more brain factor, I am still neither prettier nor richer than her.
I think I get angry, particularly of late (I am definitely not usually an angry person) at people who just seem content and confident. I have areas of great contentment in my life: my relationship, gratitude for my educational opportunities etc. But people who seem content when, in my sick opinion, they ought not to be really get on my wick.
They get on my wick because they have one thing that I don't have: the ability to accept. I must resume Project Acceptance at the start of my new job.
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4 comments:
So what does one actually need in order to be content?
This weekend has been a reminder: love and willingness. :)
Ah, but you're right. Second part is easy; as for the first...
The first part is truly precious :)
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