Someday, it will strike you that there’s no such state as nirvana. No such thing exists. And maybe saying so makes me a grouchy, bitter millennial who simply isn’t appreciative enough of what she has. Or maybe saying so makes me wise for my years. Perhaps knowing early on that the world will never get better isn’t such a bad place to begin.
I ache over the realities of this life and this earth. I’ve never seen a single thing live up to its entire potential. I’ve watched soul after soul grow exhausted and collapse halfway through the dance, and those that rise again and give me moments of hope seem to do so only to drag themselves back to the sidelines. The potential that sits in our atmosphere weighs down on me heavier than the moon on the tides. Every could-have-been eats away at my serenity.
I hurt for the world and all of us trapped in it. And I hate that trapped is the word that fits this feeling best. It’s not that I don’t have hope – I truly do – but rather that I believe in equilibrium. There will always bad things to balance out the great ones. There will always be war to keep up with the peace. There will always be an overwhelming sadness in the background, no matter how many smiles are shining on stage.