Life of minimum effort

The life of minimum effort should be the hardest. At the end you have to make the effort and you have to pretend you are not making it. My dad always says that the one who doesn't want to work is the one who works double. In the middle there's a sea of convenience and confusion between the pretentious simplicity and the extraordinary job. In the end there is nothing. I don't really understand it. Why not just giving the best? All the time, in all the ways.

The life of maximum effort is even worse. You make the effort and you end up really convinced it's not the best you can do, and it never will be. Here the exhaustion is the limit. The satisfaction never comes and at least you accumulate frustration and experience. There's also a big problem of confusion between the expectations and the result. And job never ends. In the end there's something but not satisfying enough. Why not just giving the necessary?

But sometimes both points reach. The results can be magnificent or catastrophic. In the end, there's hope for happiness.

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