Some don’t want to be happy, inasmuch as they undergo happiness merely as languor and yawning. They are dissatisfied with a bland and vacuous state of glee and, instead, prefer to keep on running like raging bulls through the whims and quirks of life. In reality, their dissatisfaction is their contentment. ("Happiness blowing in the wind" )
The perpetual movement of the water, rolling from and to unknown destinations, the voices of the sea shield us from the raging furies and shrieking sounds of dystopian surroundings, creating an unwinding veil for stilled happiness, acquainting us with the gentle, cosmic rhythms of an extraneous world. They are a soothing relief and let us listen to the voices of our inner world. ("Voices of the sea" )
We grow old judging othersAnd ourselvesUntil life humbles usAnd makes scared children of usLonging to hold another’s handTo hear their kind words And witness their kind deeds done on our behalf.But like children,We sabotage everythingFor nothing satisfies usUntil life crumbles usAnd we are no more.