My mom brought us up with affection of unseen amount. She is so caring and loveable you can’t possibly ask more from a human being. For this unparallel amount of love and affection I got in my childhood and still now, I have grown up also as a polite, friendly and soft-hearted personality. I spontaneously sacrifice for others more than one could ask for and also want the same level of heartiness in reply. I am raised up in tight bound of love, so, I want more like this.
I feel sympathetic to almost anyone and this is coming out of no interest, neither for public display and nor as a conscious trial to be great. It’s just part of my character. I have seen people who are trying so hard (against themselves) to practice philanthropy, but only succeeding in outward display of it, not in enjoying it from their heart. So, I feel lucky that I don’t have to force myself to feel like this.
I am as bad as my company has made me and as much good as the amount of my remaining originality. Inside my core, I am good, but the environment is trying to corrupt me. People so often try consciously or unconsciously to prove that selflessness is synonymous to foolishness. That it’s smart to look for your own interest only. But, I know, it is not. That the amount of goodness and happiness hidden inside the act of helping others could only be seen with an open heart. It could neither be understood nor be felt with hearts that are ceaselessly busy in grabbing more and more.
My thoughts were always boundless and perfect, and my language always brought it into limits and imperfections.
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