Quality
I often think to myself that I'm not happy with the quality of my writing.
There are many things I want to know about. Many things I want to write about.
But I am not able to get to the heart of the matters the way I want to. I am not able to express them the way I want to.
But the only reason for this is because this has been acceptable to me. I have been 'okay' with this. Even though I tell myself I am not.
All things come down to desperation.
If you're so smart why aren't you rich.
If you're so smart why aren't you happy.
If you have all the answers, why don't you have everything?
Because you have settled into this life. When I look around at the streets in India, when I look at the construction sites and see the poor quality of construction.
There is so much filth. Poor quality. The thing that hits me is that everyone adapts. People adapt to their environment too easily. Living in filth becomes easy when you get used to it.
And in a way this is the same with all our lives. Our problems are acceptable to us. Our lack of this and that is acceptable to us.
Which is the only reason why we continue to live with it.