Sometimes I think that perhaps laziness can be a virtue. After all, it is said that all human inventions were born out of laziness. People were too lazy to walk, so we trained horses and made cars. They were too lazy to send messages by themselves, so we had postal services and then the telephone and internet. They were too lazy to build everything from scratch by hand, so we made various tools and machines to do most of the work for us.

But then these inventions, they would never have been made if their inventors were truly lazy as well. For they would have preferred to do nothing and be content with what they have got, rather than do something about it and invent new contraptions. So, the inventions supposedly born out of laziness could have been killed by laziness too.

However, if the human race was too industrious and active then it would have been a problem too. People would simply blame themselves for slacking off when a task was difficult, and therefore would be contented with their tools and not look for ways to reduce their work. I suppose contentment should be the biggest enemy of innovation, yet priests, saint-like people, normal people and even innovators seek this contentment. What do you do when you find this contentment? Nothing. 

Because if you are satisfied, then there is no need for improvement. Everything begins stagnating, and there is nothing left to do but keep trudging on, in a static state, until the very end. Lazy is the person who believes he has achieved whatever he could, that he is the best version of himself, that he is the intelligence supreme, that he knows all the answers to the universe. For a lazy mind, these are not symbols of pride, but of defeat. For the wise, the fool and the lazy know that they'll never be satisfied with themselves, with their work, and with others. But they need to stop somewhere, the wise because he has got other work to do, the fool because he doesn't know how to do it better, and the lazy because he is tired of the work and will do no more. And thus the mind makes excuses, so that it can feed the alter egos to reach contentment, and let the wise move on, the fool give up, and the lazy to be contented.

But why do I go on and on about laziness? Is there nothing else that defines my being, my existence? Perhaps there is, but I am too lazy to find it out.