Searching

Faith

What is the use of all the hard work I put in?

I don't want to be successful or wealthy.

You know what I want?

A little red hut on a mountain yet to be discovered, facing the rivers with a fresh canvas waiting to be painted on.

I don't want friends or aqaintences.

I want him to sit next to me drawing that silly cartoon he loves.

Maybe I'll visit them once a year or even twice. And listen to them whine about their riches. Maybe I'll laugh.

I snap out of that quick daydream and resume to reading that USC brochure that my mother had given me so that I too could someday whine about being rich.

Thanks ma.