Misery loves company. It has to be true. How many times have you been having the worst day and have wanted to punch every single happy person who dared cross your path really really really hard? We're all guilty of it. The last thing somebody who isn't Miss Merry Fucking Sunshine wants to deal with is a perky little bitch.
We are all in a a constant state of pain. It is what defines us a humans. The eterrnal hurt. Regardless of your heartfelt denials...you wake up every morning disgusted with who you have become. You see your first love, years after the fact, and it breaks you. You hear your friend died. You work your ass off on a paper that you were really proud to pass in and fail. It's all the same. Regardless of what it is, it all hurts.
If we didn't have the pain...what would be the point? It's humbiling to know that we will never be truly happy...that there is always that higher element of happiness that we don't have. If anything, the pain keeps us busy. Gives us somthing concrete to feel.
Dickinson knows what I'm talking about. Check out this out:
[760]
Pain-- has an Element of Blank--
It cannot recollect
When it begun-- or if there were
A time when it was not--
It has no Future-- but itself--
Its Infanite contain
Its Past-- englightened to percieve
New Periods-- of Pain.
Someone once asked me, if we didn't use the westernized clock, how could we measure time. I guess by pain cycles...how much we hurt one second in relation to the next.
Because that is all we really do...
hurt.
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