And then we are always complaining… it has always something to complain about … we complain ourselves on a level, that others almost get sick. And this for a reason.

I am in the Philippines on holiday and when I went out the first day from the resort for jogging, I was almost the blow hit… people here are poor. They are so poor that they can afford nothing but a sheet over the head.

You know what is funny: they seem to be happy. They do not know it different. The dresses are partially dirty and they have nothing except for themselves. They have nothing except a chicken in the garden, of which once a year, one is slaughtered in order to the enjoyment of meat…

We Europeans, however, know it no different. We eat meat when and wherever we want. We think nothing in this case. My mood drastically declined when I saw the wild dog in the restaurant. He had the tail well below the feet clamped and was so anxious at the same time that you immediately detected:

He makes this only for the bare survive. He scratched himself everywhere and was one of the poorest creatures which I’ve ever seen for so long. And instead of knowing how beautiful my home is, I was suddenly suffering. I felt bad. How do you complain because of a shared bathroom, when others around fight to the naked survive? Everything for me is so usual that I present everything in question now. This affluent society is so disgusting.

Maybe I can give the dog something to eat tomorrow. It would be an honor to me!