I was born with a box, an empty one.
all around me, my brothers and sisters, all of them had boxes.
their boxes were empty too.
I asked, how can I fill the box.
they were unaware of the concept of emptiness, in their eyes the box was complete.
I tried to fill mine, on my own, threw whatever into it.
my sister shrieked, that’s wrong! you can’t ! You’re not supposed to!
and I tried, I really tried to resist, but I kept filling it, and she always emptied it.
now I’m old, my box is still empty, but it grew to be cracked and feeble.
Then I met a man. His box was cracked and feeble too.
the difference Is, his box was filled to the brim. It was spilling over, and he was trying desperately to empty it.
so I suggested, I’ll take from your box.
he laughed and said, what box?