If I were the daughter of a carpenter, perhaps reading a book would’ve been more entrancing. Things always taste relishingly good when worked hard for, they say. Maybe I’d make the best of choices because my budget is limited. Maybe I’d make my own shelf and my books would be proud. I would be more inspired and teaching myself things would be more often.
“Father, please,” I would say, “help me build a tree house.”
Maybe I’d grow up to value time as required, maybe birds that would have been trapped among the branches appreciate my feeble hands, more than humans ever will. My elbows would be cut and bruised more intensly than how narrow my chest feels now. Instead of swaying my fingers fruitlessly when in darkness, I’d sway my whole body in the moonlight. I thank God for whatever He provides. But maybe I would almost die because of a falling roof, instead of almost dying because of a starving soul.
I shall unleash my thoughts and splash them on paper, activated somewhat, for they can never be in life acted out, and imagining them requires a certain skill I think I posess.
Life isn’t fair, as Bill Gates said. It really isn’t. Some people suffer for the pleasure of others and no one seems to mind. Some people are more loved when they mostly radiate hatred, while others who show love and compassion are completely ignored. Some people don’t swear and they are regarded as cowardly goody-two-shoes. Some people put in their uttermost effort to keep someone happy and they don’t appreciate it. Some people have excess wealth and spend their money extravagantly on things they don’t want. Some wives do their jobs sincerely but their husbands treat them like crap just because they just keep quiet. Some people are opressed and they have nothing to do about it. Some people are ignorants and people discourage them by making a mockery of them. Some people are liars but they are mostly believed. Some people are kind and they get stepped over. Some people are righteous and they are given no attention. Some people are smart but they are bullied. We have to get used to it, but it’s a very difficult task.