Being happy
We can never be happy as long as we can’t be humble. Just thought for a while now.. played around with my thoughts and asked myself: Why don’t I become a wonderer.. a dervish of some sort, pleased with the goodies that nature has to offer, moving from some place to another, see all the beautiful places, lay my head on my arm at night and stair at the sky, find some warm place to fool the winter as it grasps me in her cold hand. Oh yeah.. that would be a beautiful dream to follow, never concerning about anything, never having dreams of greatness of desires of some sort. The road as my friend, the grass as my bad, the arm as my pillow and the sky as my cover. Yup.. great dream.. only I’m to weak to follow it.. to dependent on this… things that I call facilities .. like.. a warm meal, and a soft bad, and a computer or my friends.. I can’t let go.. not yet.. but one day.. I will.. I know I will.. and hopefully it won’t be to late. And maybe.. just maybe.. when I’ll be old .. I’ll end up on a deserted island.. since it always was my dream.. and there, there I’ll find my peace. And look back with happiness, retracing my steps in my mind, thinking at all the beautiful places I’ve seen, all the people I’ve met, and all the friends I’ve made along the way. But for now.. I can’t be humble.. or I’m just afraid of trying.. so I can’t be happy, not completely happy. But that time will come. 
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