Each time I go outside I can't help but look at the apple tree. It just looks like it feels better, which in turn, makes me feel better. I can't really explain why, it just does. Pleasure can be derived from such banal sources. It's always just around the corner, waiting to be discovered. We only have to be open to it, receptive in a passive way, not necessarily searching out right. I suppose when you are young and have so many things pulling on you, stretching you in six different directions, never done, really, then you need notes on the bathroom mirror to remind you to keep your antenna ever vigilant. Finding the pleasure in the little things is much harder, I guess, when you feel like every minute should count for something constructive.

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