Even though I don't see it, I can feel the the Chinese drapes across my windows breathing. They illuminate the room, making everything smile, but just when everything seems good they breathe out, contracting and blocking the little light that struggles it's way in, innocent as ever.
Life is a war. I'm not just talking about just the bloodshed created by countries,states and brides, but about every insignificant event that takes place in the world. Two dogs fighting for a bone; a bulb and tubelight trying to suck in all the electricity for themselves when the voltage is low; little breathless boys running their fastest just to cross that one thin red ribbon; a man struggling to open his sock drawer;or a gill-less fish battling for it's life.
Without this war-like life, life would be quite different, not to mention interminable. All dogs would have their very own chewy bones;the bulb and tubelight would always glow their brightest; the two little boys would cross the ribbon at the nick of time; the man would effortlessly get his socks; and as for the fish, it would never find itself in that situation.
If I had a choice of living in the unpredictable world or living in the Utopian one, I would, like most people, choose the unpredictable one. However, while staring up at my plain white ceiling, feeling the warmth of the sun come and go, I cannot stop picturing our lives in the Utopian world.