How do you give back more than you take?

How do you, really? For I am sure at loss. As my sister read the aforementioned words out loud, I ended up answering the question with a question: “How?”

If I was a sculpture, I could very well imagine how I would have looked after living in this frail world for so many years . Not at all dusty, but very chipped. I have never been able to tolerate mess, but letting circumstances change, sometimes turn me into a person I personally don’t endorse… I have never paid that much attention to such a transition.

Why? Because I am not sure I would have liked the answer.

1) When a friend goes out of his way to help me, I am grateful, but I am not so sure whether I would want to return the favour.
2) When I see someone I know working hard, I don’t know whether I would want to ease their burden, especially if it means I won’t have a lot of free time left for myself.


A friend of mine usually complains how everybody keeps telling him to stop being so “sensitive”. Not realising how his sensitivity is a gift.

I try to not answer the tough questions because I don’t want to know the answers, the answers that would make me sensitive to the needs I am trying to not see.

There is a story
of how he once lived.
Not knowing, now caring
of how he looked.
Nothing mattered
except the fact
that finally, in this busy world,
he was living not just for himself alone.


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