Impatient

Feeling restless, I walked out of my office. A decorative fountain greeted me and provided some peace with the soothing sound of flowing water. "This world is so artificial !!" I said to myself. At the bottom of this artifical fountain, I saw some natural stones picked up from some river bed, glittering with halcyon serenity. I retrieved a small gray one, and observed carefully the rounded contours. The stone spoke of all the long time it had weathered to attain this beautiful shape, all the pain that it had endured to be of some value before it was picked up and placed in the center of this multistory corporate building.
I knew that a seed sowed takes years to grow into a tree. Yet, like an impatient child, I was digging it out every now and then to see how big it had grown. Everybody seems to be patient, acting wisely portraying the impression that they know exactly how and when things will happen. Do they know something that I don't? Or is something wrong with me? Am I seeing something that they don't? Or is it all my imagination?
Why is it that "I want to fill my cup, drink it up?". Why is it that I don't want to live forever? I don't know where I have to go? But I am always in a hurry to go. "Mein Aisa kyon houn? Mein Aisa kyon houn?"