Riley is a rat. He eats leftovers and lives inside a shoe. He is what he is and he is content with his life. He enjoys his life, and he doesn't have to live long. When you start comparing your life with Riley, you might get depressed over the fact that a rat's life is better than yours.
What is it about us that make us not satisfied with what we have? Is Riley content with his life because he is a rat? And we're not because we're human beings? Is contentment the goal to happiness? Or when there is happiness, we feel content? What is so wrong about wanting more? What is wrong about a good amount of ambition? Why is it that the world was designed to completely nurture and support us and yet we we feel incomplete?
I don't know. I can only suspect that Riley is happy and content because he is a rat and a rat's life isn't that complicated. But in any case, if I do get to know the answer, I promise to write about it...if I'm still alive.
or sometimes outside the shower
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