We live in an age of wonders, yet we complain about small and trivial problems. Cancer is nearly cured, food is abundant, women have rights and opportunities undreamed of 100 years ago and still we moan and groan.
“Cancer is nearly cured, food is abundant, women have rights and opportunities undreamed of 100 years ago and still we moan and groan.”
Two out of three ain’t bad, but unfortunately cancer isn’t nearly cured.
Sometimes I wonder if we humans are pre-wired to have a certain ratio of stress to comfort. When this ratio gets out of balance we tend to compensate. Maybe this is is why we see people with so little act surprisingly upbeat, while others with plenty act bitter and miserable.
Cancer is not nearly cured, I have a good friend dying of it right now.