Ink SpillHow much is enough?
We aim to be millionares, we want our sport cars, we want our big mansions, we want to never work again.
But I don’t think anyone that has ever chased wealth ever said this is enough.
We always seem to be wanting more.
Which doesn’t make sense to me, if you have abundance, why would you want to double it?
It’s like we know something, it’s like we’ve seen something, something so perfect that we try to replicate it but can’t seem to get it exactly right.
It’s like our souls have witnessed heaven, or at least have an inert desire for it embedded at its core.
But its memory is lost from us.
Our souls are yearning to feel that feeling again, of eternal bliss.
It yearns for gardens, for fruits, for wide mansions with glorious rivers, for fine drinks and cloth of silk.
It tries to reach for what it once felt, then when it reaches it, it feels bliss for a while, then it dawns on it that this is not it.
This is not what I’m looking for.
It’s like no matter what we do, we will not be able to replicate it, at least not eternally.