The riverside

I went out to the river side and the people are canoeing, on motor boats, on bikes, running, happily, in a good health -- or so they looked like.  It was a beautiful day, sunshine and the light reflected on the river surface like pieces of broken glasses.  The river is blue, like the water of the Atlantic Ocean.  I took some pictures of them padding on canoes, chatting on small motor boats, riding bicycles, when I assumed they would not mind.  I waved at them; they waved back to me.  It was a nice, fine day.

Rich and gorgeous houses and what places they have.  The luxury, the sense of beauty and just to look for it, to own it, to be in it, to participate in it, etc.  While there are quite a few who go around picking up cans and bottles, the workers for those houses said -- I do not know around.  I do not live here.

To compete and to struggle to gain reputation, are an act of complying to some standards that is not quite of your own.  The standards, though, become of yours when you seek to attain the new roles under the new set of rules.  In such cases, self-control would be mutually exclusive element, which literally means to surpass the vanity, to become an existence that is not affected by it.  If life is to express yourself to the world, then the conflicting aims will pull you to the opposite direction.  To comply and seek the worldly appraisals, or to insist upon your views to the world and let go with irresponsible others.  There always are the middle ways; you would proclaim your rights and hope to get recognition from others.