Why does it so often feel like the default state of life is despair?
I feel like there’s some kind of spiritual gravity that keeps us grounded at rock bottom.
I don’t know why it’s got to take effort to feel happy or worthwhile. I wonder if we convince ourselves consciously or not that we have to reach for what we want, rather than reflect.
Sometimes it’s hard to tell whether death would be better, or at least not as bad.
Why don’t more of us fold under our stress?
If it’s not fun to be hopeless, why do so many of us feel that way? We’re lazy, for the most part, and even inspiration seems to have an expiration date.
Some of us know what we want, and we still don’t do anything about it. I don’t think we’re content merely gazing at our dreams. Oh, but what if we attain them? Then what? More dreams are on the way. Does shit ever end?
A good life seems to include an individual questioning why life is even good at all, right?
We can suffer together, but suffering will still exist if we do. Solace seems to be a symptom and not a cure. That’s really sad and I hope untrue.
This will stop now.
