Keeping It Real.
Sometimes I start wondering why I gave up on those things that I really, really loved doing as a kid. I mean, they give unreal and ethereal joy that I am sure that I would never, ever, get anywhere in the world or by doing anything else in the world. These are the only things that can provide me with that and I know it. Unfortunately, I also give up on them because they take effort. Lots of it for me to even come close feeling the "rewards" that I just mentioned.
Hello there, I'm the Earthian.
But only after I try reviving it after an unbelievably long time do I remember that the reward itself is the activity. There isn't anything separate. The very fact that I'm enjoying doing it is what thaf ultimately matters. The more I do it, the more I remember how rewarding doing it can be. And so, I do it even more until I can take no more. I realize how happy working hard at something that means something to me can make me. But it also makes me wonder why I gave up on it in the first place if it was so joyous. The only logical conclusion that I can derive is that fact that I have become lazy, that I've been seeking rewards without actually doing anything to deserve it. And its these rewards that make me feel guilty and let down. And so, I cheer myself up by getting some more joy I don't deserve. Maybe I shouldn't refer to them as joy. Maybe they are just my excuses for being the person I am. This is just me being real. Nothing more.
Love, peace.
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