This past Monday was Labour Day. A day happily spent sitting in the sun, drinking beers, and watching Freddy carry on as he always does. Running, playing, and being a dog, who seemingly only “cares about not caring.”
That was until he found a random patch of grass that was entirely too attractive for him to leave alone. It consumed his attention, effort, and, for a brief period of time, his whole existence. I’d have given anything to experience that moment where a scent that he managed to stumble upon was all that truly mattered.
Never has an individual so thoroughly earned my admiration…
But then I started to wonder what must it be like to not have to be concerned with the things that occupy my mind? Or much more importantly become so obsessed with something, that I’d be able to shut everything out that was secondary. No matter of its significance to another individual.
Then, today, I was painfully reminded of what bunch of small minded Douche Bags are doing, in an all too similar fashion, to an entire planet irrespective to anyone but themselves. “Read this or George W. Bush will be president the rest of your life.”
Yet some more concerns to contemplate…