I'm not sure why, when I think about cavemen, that the thought of it appeals to me so . . . perhaps its because I don't actually live in a cave and can idolize the life . . . but whenever I picture them hunched over their various tasks, the very thought of it, comforts me. I think the simple thought of being able to step inside a cave, and the wind, the rain, the cold and heat, are all immediately blocked, plays its hand on my mind. A small fire, at the end of a brutal day, built inside the cave, to warm the feet and cook the food. Does it get any better?
Somewhere, long ago, these people lived out their lives without much concern about what was coming or what was past. They buried their dead in shallow graves, they raised their young ones. And life went on.
Its seems somehow simple. A little easier.
Or maybe its just they didn't have to listen to the damn phone ring!
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