on achieving simplicity

   I like to enjoy simple things and think simple things and do simple things. Under those circumstances, life seems glowing and brilliant and infinite. I mean, how can it not be when everything I have enlisted in this blog, every simplicity--dogs with their heads out the window, a certain nail polish color, reading newspapers at breakfast--could be brightly sung by the Von Trapp children?
    Much as I try to appreciate my own simplicities, I so envy those who appear to fully define their lives in terms of simplicity rather than in the wild chaos that whooshes around our frantic world and our frantic brains.
     I can't decide if it's just a facade people painstakingly put on in the hopes that outsiders will yearn to know some part of the evanescent je ne sais quois that these simple people seemingly float in, or if the simplicity is bonafide. Are they born with it, Maybelline style, or do they cling to it in hopes that it will take them on a simple journey towards self actualization?
     By writing this blog post, by doubting my own abilities to attain this ethereal simplicity and admitting my want for it, I have already ruined my chances at achieving it: Simplicity abhors self-doubt and will never come to those who yearn for it.
     Those who yearn for it, who craft ways to achieve it have already killed its essence by adding complications. Instead of taking some kind of enlightened stroll through a park, those that yearn for simplicity achieve it by jumping levels and battling toadstools, Mario-style.
      So after all that rambling, here's my question: Does anyone really have that floaty, glowing, unadulterated, happy simplicity? Or is it all just false advertising?



      I think that it's false advertising. We're all just human beings. Perfection is stupid.





     But I still want it.