Sheets of Trees

Why does a piece of paper have to define who you are?
Depicting, illustrating, outlining your future, your status, your heritage.
From birth we seem to be identified by pieces of paper.
Birth Certificate.
Social Security Card.
Passport.
Learner’s Permit.
Driver’s License.
Diplomas.
Documentation that tells you what?
Stating what kind of human being you are?
Certainly not.
What kind of friend you’ll be, mother you’ll make or father you’ll become.
I don’t think so.
It says nothing about what’s really in your heart, about what your true characteristics are.
A Piece of paper does nothing but state your name, the date, and how much money, blood, sweat and tears you put into the label in black calligraphy on that biodegradable sheet of tree.
Accomplishments, perhaps, but character, absolutely not.
And what’s accomplishments without character?
A declaration of…?
That piece of paper says what exactly?
Nothing that I really need, just confirmation for the ego, the superficial, the mind.
The heart needs no authentication.
The heart already knows what’s true.
The heart sees that you are doing it, that you have achieved what it is you set out to do.
Tell the mind and ego to shove it, put it in that piece of paper, roll it up, and smoke it.
Do what you have to, but in my opinion, pieces of paper are a waste of oxygen – good, green trees that we need for livin’.