When people were born, they had to make a cry of birth, and no one would laugh. Strange nature but it must have its reason. That is the reason, it perhaps: human beings are suffering. A very profound oriental philosopher, Buddha, 2,500 years ago analyzed the logic of the cause of suffering.
When I was born, at random, that was what I thought, I was born into my family as it is now; Incidentally, I think so, I have a form like this, health and intellect, like this. And perhaps it is also coincidental that I have a fate like mine currently, in general not so bad, although sometimes I wish I was different, of course, better, except sometimes I have a desire to reverse.
Yes, my life has nothing to complain about, if I compare it with someone’s conception: happy people are people who have 3 things: someone to love, something to do, something something to hope. The above things I have, sometimes far beyond, for example, I sometimes have some people to love, a lot of things to do and with a lot of ambition.
Strange that even at that time I felt I lacked something. What is missing? Every day I still eat, still sleep, still do, say laughing to everyone, love the person I love and get people to respond, sometimes passionately. But still missing, I don’t know what is missing?
Life since being a human is that I have taken on my shoulders with responsibilities. Very often I have to do things that I don’t like, even hate, so I find myself bad. Sometimes I live not for myself but for someone, and then it is not for someone specific.
Why should it be like that? Suddenly I found myself funny. Suddenly I found myself silly. Why do I have to plunge into life as if I live forever, as if I can enjoy everything I wield forever? Why do I have to be afraid of this and everything else, take this and everything else so I can no longer be myself?