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There is a sort of dead-alive, hackneyed people

I was sent a wonderful, but too long to quote, quote today by a friend.

There is a sort of dead-alive, hackneyed people about, who are scarcely conscious of living except in the exercise of some conventional occupation. They have no curiosity; they can not give themselves over to random provocations; they do not take pleasure in the exercise of their faculties for its own sake; and unless Necessity lays about them with a stick, they will even stand still. It is no good speaking to such folk; they dare not be idle, their nature is not generous enough and they pass those hours in a sort of coma, which are not dedicated to furious moiling in the goldmill.” -Robert Louis Stevenson

It made me think of many things. As usual the cynical rogue in my wanted to fly into mentioning people I know like these, people I have known. But for a change I paused. (just for a moment).

Really did you expect anything else?

I have lived in that world. All the while wondering what it was they were doing. Why they were doing it. And what pleasures it might have brought them. But with exploration, you find it brought them none. That unhappiness is almost the secret of their being.

So. DON’T! Wake up. Look around. Take it in and enjoy the beautiful, terrible thing that is life and living.

When you must cry. Cry.
When you must laugh. Laugh!
When the music moves you Dance(even if its in a chair)
When the food please. Let it.
When you rage. Rage. Do not go quietly into the night!

If you must be one of those people. Please stay away from those of use who choose to live.

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