One of the things I've been looking forward to is living to live...not to obtain unnecessary materials, not to earn money just to spend it, not to focus on my social standing in this pretentious country we live in...but instead - living to live. I've been one to get swept away by all of the things that don't much matter: things like clothes, electronics, image, social gatherings, money and just materialistic aspects of this world...and I'll tell you one thing - I don't like it. Yet, by saying I don't like it would be somewhat of a lie. Who wouldn't want to live such a lavish life to not care about anyone by yourself, your materials, loved one and what you'll be doing to have fun? But that is an empty life. Such a life would not make me happy - sure, I'd be entertained all the time, and envied by others, and loved by many - but this will not make me happy if I am not living. In my opinion - those who do not yearn to help, those who are selfish to the pure extent of definition: is not living, but is dead.
So what I'm really looking forward to is living to live. I want to feel the Earth move, and I want to dance with it. I want to shed myself of the things that should not be of sole importance, and I want to really see what it means to live with the bare necessities. I want to work for what I get. I want to harvest the crops with the villagers. I want to have my clothing made, and then learn to make my own. I want to use my legs as my engine to get me from here to there. I want to see what life is like when all you do is live.
So I found this journal entry by John Dessereau's blog (which I got from one of New York's photographers: Brock Fetch's blog. - Yes, I'm sneaky. And am trying to follow lots of artists). This journal entry made my heart glow. I love it. I love that someone else has realized that the earth, and nature are missing ingredients in peoples' everyday mixture of life, love and business.
*are not living, but are dead.
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well at least I kept it consistent after the colon! thank you for correcting me.
ReplyDeletefirst time, eh?
There is a first time for everything Bird.
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