He was getting older much faster than his true age. Each year that passed by felt like a leap year. At this rate, he would be a Zen Master in 7 years and die in 15 with a lot of unfinished business.
He must create wealth faster and have enough time to enjoy it. He feared getting older before getting wealthier. The faster he ran after wealth, the older he got, the lesser important the wealth became for him. It felt like a senseless loop that led to a dead-end.
He was on a quest. He didn’t know when and where it began and had no inkling of how, when and where it would end. To make matters interesting or worse, he had no imagination of how the end felt or looked like. He was looking to win a race without a finishing line. There was something alluring about this quest with an imperceptible end point. The only respite was the several check points on the way that faked that ultimate victory unconvincingly.
He wasn’t the lone moron. There were millions chasing the goalless goal. So that no none felt like a true idiot, in solidarity they took pride in celebrating each other’s insanity by defining success milestones. You could put them in a line, some starting out, some slower, some rapid, some ahead, some far behind. They were all on track validating the pursuit as a genuine one for others while secretly seeking self-verification from the rest.
He felt stupid and tired. The last time he felt that way, he decided to rest. After a few days, he was fresh and hopped back on the lunacy track with a new zeal. This time, it was different. He wanted to quit.
To be continued...
He must create wealth faster and have enough time to enjoy it. He feared getting older before getting wealthier. The faster he ran after wealth, the older he got, the lesser important the wealth became for him. It felt like a senseless loop that led to a dead-end.
He was on a quest. He didn’t know when and where it began and had no inkling of how, when and where it would end. To make matters interesting or worse, he had no imagination of how the end felt or looked like. He was looking to win a race without a finishing line. There was something alluring about this quest with an imperceptible end point. The only respite was the several check points on the way that faked that ultimate victory unconvincingly.
He wasn’t the lone moron. There were millions chasing the goalless goal. So that no none felt like a true idiot, in solidarity they took pride in celebrating each other’s insanity by defining success milestones. You could put them in a line, some starting out, some slower, some rapid, some ahead, some far behind. They were all on track validating the pursuit as a genuine one for others while secretly seeking self-verification from the rest.
He felt stupid and tired. The last time he felt that way, he decided to rest. After a few days, he was fresh and hopped back on the lunacy track with a new zeal. This time, it was different. He wanted to quit.
To be continued...
Until next time
~ SU
~ SU