White

There's so much suffering in the world.

Everyone has their own personal demons, be they physical, mental, or spiritual. Everyone has their issues. Turn on the news, you'll see a sad-eyed reporter on a backdrop of war, poverty, or disaster, voicing his empathy with the victims he hardly, if at all knows. At home we watch, barely seeing, shielded by the tv's glass pane and hundreds of miles, our hearts don't even seem to flutter, it's all happened before, we've seen alot worse. How did this happen? How is it that we are immune to pain? At least other peoples pain. When it comes to our own problems, however petty they might be, we expect the world to screech to a halt and take notice. Our pain is always deeper, our love loftier, our innocence purer. I read something in that gist from somewhere, can't put my finger on it. But I think whoever said that was pretty smart. Then again, maybe he was just human and influenced by the same emotions that rage within and encompass us all.

It is a world ruled by desperate melancholy, or so we are led to believe. Some how everywhere i look everywhere I go theres someone, something that seems to be somehow reaching into my being and telling me that the world is a lonely and uncaring place, desolate and devoid of hope.

I just can't believe that thats how this world; the world that bore and sustains such an amazing potpourri of life and variety really is. This world that as far as we know seems to be the only on in our vast galaxy capable of producing intelligent life or even life in general.

So is it really such a great ball of @#$%^&?

Why is it that there is so much joy in the world that never gets anyones attention? Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that we should ignore the plagues of life. What I'm saying is there are two, or rather mutiple sides to the coin of life; we should appreciate every aspect of it. At each different angle a whole new view of life reveals itself. Why not live life as it is instead of wallowing in self-righteous indignity at the verisimilitude of unending sorrow that is simply its frame?

I guess its easier to be sad, it easier to be angry, its easier to hate.

I want to cherish life, cherish all its flaws and all it lacks, because i know it gives us so much more than it can ever take away.

I believe that everything that happens to us happens for a reason. To teach us, to guide us, to prepare us for what we are meant to do. When we break our arm, we will know what a priviledge it is to have it, when it heals. The same goes with our hearts.

I love my life, even if at times it tries to convince me to feel otherwise.

Tiny sparks of positivity, burn pyres to send the darkest shade in flight.