Post by Haku on Nov 15, 2013 9:13:09 GMT
Hello gaiz, this is my third essay and the teacher wanted us to write about Jealousy, Greed or Love. I decided to go for Greed and I wanted to get your opinion on it. She gave me an A on the assignment. I feel kinda indifferent towards it though. I felt excited and confident at first but now it just doesn't seem as great as I thought.
Greed
"You have needs -satisfy them. You have as much right as the rich and the mighty. Do not hesitate to satisfy your needs; indeed, expand your needs and demand more." Fyodor Dostoyevsky said this long ago. These are the rules by which we guide ourselves today. We believe it is freedom; albeit, the result for the rich is isolation and suicide, for the poor, envy and murder.
It all begins from an early age, when our impressionable infant minds are taught how to dance with the dragons. There is a boy, a romantic boy, accursed with greed for dreams; expectations from an elusive future built on fallacies and broken roads.
Greed has eyes larger than our stomachs. It is curious, but understands little.
The boy grows with his goals in his throat. He has big plans for the future, but the future has plans for him. His hair is longer, his limbs reach farther, his mind keener. But nothing prepares you for the vixen passing by him.
The boy is captivated by her charm, a gal worth a thousand pearls. All he does is for the benefit of one, to be with one and live with one. The same boy with dreams now dreams of one, but one does not dream of he.
How bad could lust be? How bad could greed be? When all he desires is the air she breathes and the warmth that she beams.
However, the boy does not dwindle. He trims her heart with gifts and offers her a ring; One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them all.
The boy, now a man, shorter hair, smiled with glee. Besides him a bee embellished in trinkets; fur coats, stylish boots, designer bags and fedoras too. He owns the world below his feet just to take a whiff of her hair.
There is little they do not have, but even now, he pads more frosting on the jaded pastry. She tires. Love, like the sun that it is, sets afire and melts everything. He arrives to this place so near the sky yet seldom sees the stars. This ludic love has reached its peak and lapses between the seams.
Greed is a stream that never finds the sea.
Despair. Panic. Frustration. To quench his manic thirst and retrieve lost love, he must give her more than the world he achieved. So he finds a magic cup embroidered
with gold and learns that if he cries into the cup his tears turn into pearls.
So he searches for ways to make himself suffer and drown his life in wealth beyond wonders. As the pearls accumulate, so does his greed. But now he sits on a mountain of pearls, with knife in hand, he weeps into the cup with the corpse of his love slain in his arms.
Greed grasps at everything but catches nothing except the wind.
Undoubtedly, it is the law of equivalent exchange: to create, something of equal value must be lost. To gain is to lose and to lose is to gain, but some things cannot be measured on a simple scale. No amount of pearls could replace a lover's heart.
Shakespeare said: Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? Or sells eternity to get a toy? For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? Or what fond beggar but to touch the crown, would the scepter straight be stricken down?
The man grows bald and alone away from the world he owned. With his life in shambles he cares not for a soul -but the one who slipped away. "No more games," he said. "No more bombs. No more walking. No more fun. Sixty-seven. That is seventeen years past fifty. Seventeen more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always grouchy. No fun -for anybody."
Sixty-seven. You are becoming greedy. Act your old age. Relax -this will not hurt...
Greed
"You have needs -satisfy them. You have as much right as the rich and the mighty. Do not hesitate to satisfy your needs; indeed, expand your needs and demand more." Fyodor Dostoyevsky said this long ago. These are the rules by which we guide ourselves today. We believe it is freedom; albeit, the result for the rich is isolation and suicide, for the poor, envy and murder.
It all begins from an early age, when our impressionable infant minds are taught how to dance with the dragons. There is a boy, a romantic boy, accursed with greed for dreams; expectations from an elusive future built on fallacies and broken roads.
Greed has eyes larger than our stomachs. It is curious, but understands little.
The boy grows with his goals in his throat. He has big plans for the future, but the future has plans for him. His hair is longer, his limbs reach farther, his mind keener. But nothing prepares you for the vixen passing by him.
The boy is captivated by her charm, a gal worth a thousand pearls. All he does is for the benefit of one, to be with one and live with one. The same boy with dreams now dreams of one, but one does not dream of he.
How bad could lust be? How bad could greed be? When all he desires is the air she breathes and the warmth that she beams.
However, the boy does not dwindle. He trims her heart with gifts and offers her a ring; One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them all.
The boy, now a man, shorter hair, smiled with glee. Besides him a bee embellished in trinkets; fur coats, stylish boots, designer bags and fedoras too. He owns the world below his feet just to take a whiff of her hair.
There is little they do not have, but even now, he pads more frosting on the jaded pastry. She tires. Love, like the sun that it is, sets afire and melts everything. He arrives to this place so near the sky yet seldom sees the stars. This ludic love has reached its peak and lapses between the seams.
Greed is a stream that never finds the sea.
Despair. Panic. Frustration. To quench his manic thirst and retrieve lost love, he must give her more than the world he achieved. So he finds a magic cup embroidered
with gold and learns that if he cries into the cup his tears turn into pearls.
So he searches for ways to make himself suffer and drown his life in wealth beyond wonders. As the pearls accumulate, so does his greed. But now he sits on a mountain of pearls, with knife in hand, he weeps into the cup with the corpse of his love slain in his arms.
Greed grasps at everything but catches nothing except the wind.
Undoubtedly, it is the law of equivalent exchange: to create, something of equal value must be lost. To gain is to lose and to lose is to gain, but some things cannot be measured on a simple scale. No amount of pearls could replace a lover's heart.
Shakespeare said: Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? Or sells eternity to get a toy? For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? Or what fond beggar but to touch the crown, would the scepter straight be stricken down?
The man grows bald and alone away from the world he owned. With his life in shambles he cares not for a soul -but the one who slipped away. "No more games," he said. "No more bombs. No more walking. No more fun. Sixty-seven. That is seventeen years past fifty. Seventeen more than I needed or wanted. Boring. I am always grouchy. No fun -for anybody."
Sixty-seven. You are becoming greedy. Act your old age. Relax -this will not hurt...