Moving On
It dawned that the need for accumulation was a fallacy. The more one gains, he thought, the more one has to lose.
A rising surge of good feeling swept through as he looked at the papers shredded or thrown away in heaps. It was symbolic of the loss he felt inside, the loss of his sincere trust in certain others who manipulated or used him like a paper doll. Funny that such people can misplace his extended hand of friendship to them. Sad and disappointing, but in the end, for them. The physical disposal was also reflected in electronic deletion. He did not understand why certain individuals around the place were deluding themselves creating imagined needs and ordering others to duplicate things in so many dimensions, as if paranoid that these duplicates would be required in the future - or is it that these individuals actually had nothing of value to contribute and had to make a semblance of activity and importance around their wrapped minds?
It was not that amazing that so many things kept were not utilised, or missed, in the past few years. Now with a sprint of vitality, he slashed and cut, thankful it was not other people's livelihoods, income or jobs that were being destroyed, but only false clinging to things that will never be, never have been and better to be let go in the constant swirl of Nature's winds. People around him continue to be deluded and seemed to take pride basking in their delusion. Detachment was the best thing he awakened to, and now he was free.
At times it was not easy to move on, even if he had wanted to. Things kept coming in another channel at the same furious pace that he was letting go in another way. He contained the things he was responsible for into one corner, while at the same time he felt like bailing out rushing water from a possibly impossible situation. He was very strict with himself, not letting in the pessimism, the negative games and false pretences that certain other individuals imposed on him. These individuals continued to behave , perhaps in desperation, in the same mannerisms as if he could not see through and through. How despicable these characters can be, and now they are drowning in their own making and not knowing it.
A rising surge of good feeling swept through as he looked at the papers shredded or thrown away in heaps. It was symbolic of the loss he felt inside, the loss of his sincere trust in certain others who manipulated or used him like a paper doll. Funny that such people can misplace his extended hand of friendship to them. Sad and disappointing, but in the end, for them. The physical disposal was also reflected in electronic deletion. He did not understand why certain individuals around the place were deluding themselves creating imagined needs and ordering others to duplicate things in so many dimensions, as if paranoid that these duplicates would be required in the future - or is it that these individuals actually had nothing of value to contribute and had to make a semblance of activity and importance around their wrapped minds?
It was not that amazing that so many things kept were not utilised, or missed, in the past few years. Now with a sprint of vitality, he slashed and cut, thankful it was not other people's livelihoods, income or jobs that were being destroyed, but only false clinging to things that will never be, never have been and better to be let go in the constant swirl of Nature's winds. People around him continue to be deluded and seemed to take pride basking in their delusion. Detachment was the best thing he awakened to, and now he was free.
At times it was not easy to move on, even if he had wanted to. Things kept coming in another channel at the same furious pace that he was letting go in another way. He contained the things he was responsible for into one corner, while at the same time he felt like bailing out rushing water from a possibly impossible situation. He was very strict with himself, not letting in the pessimism, the negative games and false pretences that certain other individuals imposed on him. These individuals continued to behave , perhaps in desperation, in the same mannerisms as if he could not see through and through. How despicable these characters can be, and now they are drowning in their own making and not knowing it.
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