I live to be inspired. Incidentally, I also live to be acknowledged in a way that will put food on my table. I don't see this as wrong, and I'm not asking to be world famous. I just want a little piece of life that I don't have to worry about, but maybe I need to be here instead, scraping the ground as I walk by it. At the very least, I'm not tripping over it. That is something positive to acknowledge.
Perhaps it also seems to others that it is a vicious cycle, this game of life. Maybe we're all just stuck in a human mousetrap in more ways than one, but as I've been sitting here, worrying about my future income, my freedom, and the price I have to pay for these things (i.e. not going home for Christmas and being stranded here all alone), I've come to realize it could be dreadfully worse. I could be a prisoner of war somewhere, a sex slave, a homeless person, or just someone who has been forgotten completely. I could be any of those people, but I am not. I'm comfortable in the huge, wonderful bed I sleep in every single night in my house that I love in the city that I adore, and I'm content. However, there have been some little things that have upset me to the point of anger and bitterness lately, but these thoughts I have are fighting these angry, bitter, selfish feelings and granting me more hope for the world. All of a sudden, I don't feel so sad for my life when I think about people who are starving or dying because they cannot afford any sort of medical expense. My lonely Christmas Day won't be so sad if I think of those who are without any family or even clean water.
It's difficult to remind ourselves of these things in the midst of our outrages, but somehow, it came to mind. I was about to write a post about how pissed off I am at the corporate world for forcing people to make money for them when they should allow them time with their families. Then, I realized how self-absorbed I am. It's kind of disgusting, actually.