Oh, why?
Why do we love food so much?
Why are we able to love some food so much and have a "craving" for it while a billion people do not even have enough to eat and all they crave for is something to put into their mouth, even if its only mud cake.
(this picture because these thoughts came to me while looking at this brook, munching on a chocolate)
Here I am, dreaming about certain foods that I absolutely love. That I miss. Because even though I might find the dish here, it will not taste the same. Because every place does a twist of its own to every food and what you crave for is location specific taste and not really a dish. Here I am, thinking of how happy I felt when the person I loved understood my absolute madness for this food and took me to eat out in that exact location where I could get the exact taste.
The problem is, even in my happiest mode, I can never be 100% happy, or as they say happy all the way down. Because...
because I haven't grown up still. Because I still haven't completely been able to wipe out my childhood notion that someday I was going to change this world and all people would be equal. How does that relate to my liking a food?
Because I can never forget that while I gorge myself and pamper myself, there are people, even outside of the restaurant that I'm eating, who will never enjoy the luxury of having choices of liking a certain food. I will never abandon my blessed life to live like that, to starve myself, I cannot. I cannot make them have enough, so that they can have a life at least as good as mine. I cannot make the 'filthy' rich suddenly middle income and let their money be distributed to all the poor. Even if I did, it wouldn't make the world any good. There would always appear other rich, the poor who got that money might become the next rich for all we know.
We have made this world too complicated trying to simplify our lives. We are trapped inside our own 'safety' nets. And I am trapped inside my own "relief" ideology. I complain, I sulk, I whine. I am not satisfied with what is. But I am not ready to give up what I have. I am angry for people above me that they are above me. I am pitiful of the people who I think are "below" me. But if they give me a pleading look, I feel angry at them for not trying hard enough. And yet, I feel that i'm trying hard enough and the world is not giving me a damn.
I am a little squirrel running round and round in a cage. I think I have covered half the world, but the fact is I am where I was since a child. I think I know the whole world, every people. But the only ones I know are those who have come into my vision, who have come into that corner of that small room where my cage is. I enjoy the small little tidbits that is put inside my cage, I take that as my pleasure ride, a topping on my freedom and life. I do not realize that its food that my keepers give me out of pity.
Why are we able to love some food so much and have a "craving" for it while a billion people do not even have enough to eat and all they crave for is something to put into their mouth, even if its only mud cake.
(this picture because these thoughts came to me while looking at this brook, munching on a chocolate)
Here I am, dreaming about certain foods that I absolutely love. That I miss. Because even though I might find the dish here, it will not taste the same. Because every place does a twist of its own to every food and what you crave for is location specific taste and not really a dish. Here I am, thinking of how happy I felt when the person I loved understood my absolute madness for this food and took me to eat out in that exact location where I could get the exact taste.
The problem is, even in my happiest mode, I can never be 100% happy, or as they say happy all the way down. Because...
because I haven't grown up still. Because I still haven't completely been able to wipe out my childhood notion that someday I was going to change this world and all people would be equal. How does that relate to my liking a food?
Because I can never forget that while I gorge myself and pamper myself, there are people, even outside of the restaurant that I'm eating, who will never enjoy the luxury of having choices of liking a certain food. I will never abandon my blessed life to live like that, to starve myself, I cannot. I cannot make them have enough, so that they can have a life at least as good as mine. I cannot make the 'filthy' rich suddenly middle income and let their money be distributed to all the poor. Even if I did, it wouldn't make the world any good. There would always appear other rich, the poor who got that money might become the next rich for all we know.
We have made this world too complicated trying to simplify our lives. We are trapped inside our own 'safety' nets. And I am trapped inside my own "relief" ideology. I complain, I sulk, I whine. I am not satisfied with what is. But I am not ready to give up what I have. I am angry for people above me that they are above me. I am pitiful of the people who I think are "below" me. But if they give me a pleading look, I feel angry at them for not trying hard enough. And yet, I feel that i'm trying hard enough and the world is not giving me a damn.
I am a little squirrel running round and round in a cage. I think I have covered half the world, but the fact is I am where I was since a child. I think I know the whole world, every people. But the only ones I know are those who have come into my vision, who have come into that corner of that small room where my cage is. I enjoy the small little tidbits that is put inside my cage, I take that as my pleasure ride, a topping on my freedom and life. I do not realize that its food that my keepers give me out of pity.
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