Our thoughts are like the swift waters hurrying down a mountain creek, the waters seeping through the earth, the waters falling down from the sky. Our thoughts are at times free of emotion; pure, unadulterated, logical, and above all, precise. Other times they are tainted with anger, of jealousy, of malice; and yet, there are times when they are flavored with the richness of love, of happiness, of passion. Where your thoughts flow, where they originate from; how they slide, how they crash — these things matter to your existence. Just as water is the fount of life, our thoughts  are the founts of ourselves. How you want to be projected into life and into the lives of others depend on how you maintain your thoughts and their flow. Just as water without nutrients is a bad thing, so too is water laden with an excessive amount of, well, anything. Nitrogen is crucial for fertilizing the soil and giving life, just as is love and happiness in one’s life; yet, too much can be a bad thing, depending on how circumstances fall. On the contrary, distilled water is the analogous form of the pure, precise thought. Organic lifeforms have little uses for distilled water, yet in many controlled settings, distilled is the common staple. So too, then, we benefit the most from logic and reasoning when we are endeavoring to shape certain events and outcomes to our own desires. Yet, we cannot apply the same line of thinking to life, because life consists of a myriad of different environments and as such, demands different qualities of thought. In life, we learn to become aware of the push and pull of our thoughts and wants, and in becoming so, we must then guide them. Without direction, confusion invades our inner sanctum quietly; before long, a patch of algae forms and the walls of our fountain grows slimy and treacherous. These tainted areas must be observed and dealt with as soon as they arise, or their build up will become harder to remove; both due to a high cost of effort and also as a sum of a series of ever-worsening apathy. When the mind becomes habituated to its degraded environment, it no longer cares for its sparkling clarity of months before; only for its contentment. Contentment, then, it would seem, is one of the most degenerative emotions.


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