Tree and Pencil

                                                      “I’m not a perfect human, but I’m the perfect me!”

A new pencil is tall and sharp. As we use it, it gets blunt. We can sharpen it again but at the expense of its height, until we reach a point where it needs to be discarded for a new pencil.

The pencil doesn’t have the power to make a mark in the world; the power is with the one holding it.

That is the problem. We all, more often than not fall prey to one of the many traps of life and give power over ourselves to someone else and become a mere shadow of them, which they will eventually stamp on.

I wish I could always remain a tree and choose to give shadow to others than me becoming a shadow in the world. I wish I’ll never have to be made a pencil.

I had insulated myself to protect the nature and purpose of my life, until one day when I let my guard down only to start questioning life.

I realise now, how difficult it is to escape the fate of becoming a pencil, to wither away experiencing a slow painful death.

I think the only challenge in life is to protect our true selves from morphing into someone else.