What we desire to be is not what we become; instead it is desire that becomes us and desire is a double edge sword. If we achieve our goals do we stop and say "Did it! Now I can live my life" or do we push forward to greater heights? If we continue to fail to achieve our goals do we proclaim "I'll try harder next time!" or do we wallow in self pity? Desire refutes happiness and feeds an unquenchable addiction.
A story goes, a man used to beat his son every day until the boy would cry. The mother was always loving, kind and considerate. She would try to reconcile with the boy after the beating, singing him to sleep and wiping his tears away. As the boy grew older he promised himself no matter what, he was never going to cry again.
This would enrage his father and he would be the boy even harder. Lash after lash he would take, without a tear. His mother was always there to calm him down. The boy would shout obscenities at his father and curse his name. When the boy was old enough he moved away.
Years later, he received word that his mother had passed away and he attended her funeral. His father was there and said not a word to him. His father approached with open arms and weeping like a child, the boy now a man pushed him to the ground. The man did not shed a single tear but relished in his father's pain. Afterwards his father would send letter after letter trying to resolve the past. The man would toss each one into the fire.
Then one day the man received a letter saying his father had died. The man now forty five dressed his best and appeared at the funeral. He approached the coffin and studying his father's corpse burst into tears. He began crying hysterically. For thirty years he had not cried a single tear, not even for his mother who loved him with all her heart.
Why then was he crying? He hated this man with every inch of his body, with every thought of his mind and this was the exact reason he cried. The man realized his hatred for his father had become his life's purpose. Every day was spent dwelling on the past and now that his father was dead, he had nothing left to live for. The man had no purpose and he cried and cried.
A story goes, a man used to beat his son every day until the boy would cry. The mother was always loving, kind and considerate. She would try to reconcile with the boy after the beating, singing him to sleep and wiping his tears away. As the boy grew older he promised himself no matter what, he was never going to cry again.
This would enrage his father and he would be the boy even harder. Lash after lash he would take, without a tear. His mother was always there to calm him down. The boy would shout obscenities at his father and curse his name. When the boy was old enough he moved away.
Years later, he received word that his mother had passed away and he attended her funeral. His father was there and said not a word to him. His father approached with open arms and weeping like a child, the boy now a man pushed him to the ground. The man did not shed a single tear but relished in his father's pain. Afterwards his father would send letter after letter trying to resolve the past. The man would toss each one into the fire.
Then one day the man received a letter saying his father had died. The man now forty five dressed his best and appeared at the funeral. He approached the coffin and studying his father's corpse burst into tears. He began crying hysterically. For thirty years he had not cried a single tear, not even for his mother who loved him with all her heart.
Why then was he crying? He hated this man with every inch of his body, with every thought of his mind and this was the exact reason he cried. The man realized his hatred for his father had become his life's purpose. Every day was spent dwelling on the past and now that his father was dead, he had nothing left to live for. The man had no purpose and he cried and cried.
but...i forgave him. it is still he who ignores me...yet begging for attention.
maybe i havent forgiven afterall.
apples and peanut butter are delicious. but not the crunchy kind.
<3