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Down among the pebbles and rough stone underneath your hands and knees, on the floor of the cave, you see scuff marks. Then, you trace your fingers along familiar scratches. You see your drawings, made with the sharp bits of stone, scratched in years and years ago. Faded, but still visible. It reminds you of a simpler time.
...You wonder sometimes how many people out there can share the same experiences as you. How many live on such beautiful land and have friends and cared about secret hiding places they had as a kid. Whose only concern is getting it <span class="mu-i">in</span> with a sexy alien. Maybe you should be a little more grateful. You've always looked at your life as something not worthy of envy; constantly stuck between siblings and social classes and underfoot compared to greater beings then you. Jaxtians smarter then you without even trying, a government who controls your every move and plans your life for you, so much so you don't get to figure out romance without a state mandate, just your like Dad.
But maybe that's wrong. Maybe you're really lucky. How many kids out there can say they have a special cave like this that only they have? How many can have work-life balance like you where you get to have fun all day and exercise and then learn from the best and take your life in any direction you want free from slavery or crushing capitalism. Maybe you should be more grateful.
What do you think?
>Yeah, you are pretty happy
>No, you've still got a ways to go
>Not sure
