Eleven Days of Vacation

I'm baffled by families in the midst of war who still laugh together. I'm stumped by those huge colonies of ants in Africa, who spend their eyeless lives endlessly carrying food and offspring from nest to nest. Why are there lovely sea creatures who live for a brief handful of days? I'm confounded by the fact that there are happy beings, joyfully accomplishing their tasks and living their lives in unfathomable states... Who are unable to perceive my horror at what I perceive to be their suffering. What is suffering?

It's even more unbelievable when cognizant people live their lives without bothering themselves with caring at all about the perceptions of you or I or anybody else. Is it freedom, to lack any desire to examine one's own motivations? Is sentience a gift?

You get to choose your happiness and your sorrow. You get to choose how you let others make you feel. It's your choice, whether or not you're not good enough, or not smart enough, or not whatever enough for anything. Ultimately, everything you are, everything you perceive yourself to be, is up to you. If you hate what you are... It's your fault, but it's also your choice. Who matters most to you? Who can you change? Who is responsible for your thoughts and actions?

I'm getting married in five days.