hey all, do help me take a look at my supplement essay. feel free to voice out any suggestions, thoughts or improvements. :)
A Tree or a Cloud?
Life is unpredictable - you blurted.
The sky turns dark, and you know it will rain; comes 5pm, the roads get noisy, packed, like puzzles piecing up - not to a beautiful picture, but stressful, crowded, disorganized cars and angry people; your boss throws you piles of folders and paperwork, then you realized its near the holiday season, and you are bound to your desk; your girlfriend says - we need to talk - and you know, something bad is around the corner. Everything in life, is written out, like a story so familiar we all could guess the ending halfway through it. Still unpredictable?
Nonsense, utter nonsense! Why then do some people say life is beautiful, breathtaking, surreal - you questioned!
My friend, the world, at large, is too enigmatic for a short, simple, sweet answer to your question.
But, if you insist:
You see, people, more often than not, are sedentary beings. Motionless, desk-bound, settled for what is within hands-reach. We take a step forward, pause, hesitate, worry about the next day, our next word, our next dollar, our next failure; and eventually, we lament on our coward devouring for the same old riches, that stoops down below our feet: sons, inheriting the riches of their fathers; children, trapped in the same cycle of life - school, college, work, marriage, family, retirement. You say life is unpredictable, I say life is pre-determined.
My friend, we are all born with a faint delineation of our destiny, believe it or not - one set by our fathers, shaped by our societies, and one we all had long foreseen, knowingly or unknowingly. Our lives, as beautiful as it may be, will always be predictable, determined and unthrilling - if we live in the same predicament set by others
Funny, why are you so cynical, pessimistic - you quipped!
You see, life blankets us with an odd assurance; like a newborn expecting for warmth and attention from the surrounding - sometimes joyful giggles, other times cries, and some other times desperations: to reach out for a world, lived in, but not understood or well communicated, at least not yet. And so are we, when it comes to understanding our world - at times, we find joy from it, then sadness, and more surprises, but we never could understand the mystical influences that govern the pattern of events! And it is amidst these inabilities to understand our life, that we choose to leave the inscrutable only as thoughts and questions we all bewilder at; passive, subservient to the works of the world.
And the unpredictability of life is thus silenced by our passiveness towards life - that sometimes, we choose to live in the same manner we know we already will: cowardly predictable, and unquestioning.
What is it then that makes life unpredictable - you asked.
Life, as William Blake poetically puts it, paints a tree and a cloud above it; that the tree, graceful as it is, devours only the riches of the Earth bestowed within its reaches, and falters at the same ground where its seed first birthed. The cloud above it, however less lush nor graceful, is fluid and roams the Earth - worriless, so fast-changing, that its riches abound in greater multitude, and in far places, you and I, would never know.
So my question to you, my friend: the cloud or the tree - you choose.
A Tree or a Cloud?
Life is unpredictable - you blurted.
The sky turns dark, and you know it will rain; comes 5pm, the roads get noisy, packed, like puzzles piecing up - not to a beautiful picture, but stressful, crowded, disorganized cars and angry people; your boss throws you piles of folders and paperwork, then you realized its near the holiday season, and you are bound to your desk; your girlfriend says - we need to talk - and you know, something bad is around the corner. Everything in life, is written out, like a story so familiar we all could guess the ending halfway through it. Still unpredictable?
Nonsense, utter nonsense! Why then do some people say life is beautiful, breathtaking, surreal - you questioned!
My friend, the world, at large, is too enigmatic for a short, simple, sweet answer to your question.
But, if you insist:
You see, people, more often than not, are sedentary beings. Motionless, desk-bound, settled for what is within hands-reach. We take a step forward, pause, hesitate, worry about the next day, our next word, our next dollar, our next failure; and eventually, we lament on our coward devouring for the same old riches, that stoops down below our feet: sons, inheriting the riches of their fathers; children, trapped in the same cycle of life - school, college, work, marriage, family, retirement. You say life is unpredictable, I say life is pre-determined.
My friend, we are all born with a faint delineation of our destiny, believe it or not - one set by our fathers, shaped by our societies, and one we all had long foreseen, knowingly or unknowingly. Our lives, as beautiful as it may be, will always be predictable, determined and unthrilling - if we live in the same predicament set by others
Funny, why are you so cynical, pessimistic - you quipped!
You see, life blankets us with an odd assurance; like a newborn expecting for warmth and attention from the surrounding - sometimes joyful giggles, other times cries, and some other times desperations: to reach out for a world, lived in, but not understood or well communicated, at least not yet. And so are we, when it comes to understanding our world - at times, we find joy from it, then sadness, and more surprises, but we never could understand the mystical influences that govern the pattern of events! And it is amidst these inabilities to understand our life, that we choose to leave the inscrutable only as thoughts and questions we all bewilder at; passive, subservient to the works of the world.
And the unpredictability of life is thus silenced by our passiveness towards life - that sometimes, we choose to live in the same manner we know we already will: cowardly predictable, and unquestioning.
What is it then that makes life unpredictable - you asked.
Life, as William Blake poetically puts it, paints a tree and a cloud above it; that the tree, graceful as it is, devours only the riches of the Earth bestowed within its reaches, and falters at the same ground where its seed first birthed. The cloud above it, however less lush nor graceful, is fluid and roams the Earth - worriless, so fast-changing, that its riches abound in greater multitude, and in far places, you and I, would never know.
So my question to you, my friend: the cloud or the tree - you choose.
