Of Competition

I am annoyed, the continuous striving of man to excellence is repulsive. I prefer it to be easier, to be satisfying, not to drag you into a pit of uncivilised competitive animals where nothing but the end product matters.
I believe in the absolute freedom of my own actions, noone, nothing should decide what I do, wear, eat, say or puke. Its my life, I paid for it in full, cash , kind or otherwise. And when I do die, I wish it to be spectacular, wherever it is, and I want to feel it in full force, smell it, hear it, enjoy it, for all I care.
The nauseating feeling of self repugnance fills me everytime I realise that whatever I do, its never enough, not for my family, not for my girl, not for anybody or anything else, because someone, or something will always be more pleasing. And though its all relative and depends on perspective, I still do think that it shouldn`t.
Everyday, I think, should be used to do something better, something novel, something worth exciting, for if not, then at the end of it all, what am I left with, a handful of days filled with remembrance, while of the others I donot have a single memory, whereas, every single day has been of equal worth, and has stood in equal stead in its contribution to my life.