I stepped on happiness.
It started with a story on the internet. A well-to-do stock broker decided one day that her job didn't make her happy. In the very next moment, she decided she was going to become a trapeze artist. And so she did.
It continued with another story. A boy that just graduated high school decided he wanted to be a rock star. After joining a band he resolved to risk time lost for college and do it. The band now has a record deal with Warner Bros.
In the midst of Jesse's soul-stealing cubical, she figured that, even among circumstantial woes, it really is that simple. A person only gets about 3900 Mondays in a life-time (and this is assuming you don't smoke, you don't get hit by a bus or a lethal illness doesn't take you early). It made her physically ill to know that on that very track on which she was simply surviving, she was certain that 85% of those 3900 Mondays would be dreaded and produce a steady frown. (The other 15% are paid holidays.)
So it ends with a canvas. A canvas is her trapeze. If we don't do what makes us happy, if we don't carry out the passion that is instilled in us, why live?
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