life is essentially misery

and dull brutal suffering

with the occasional short relief

of honest joy or true pleasure

that are never a result of

what we think brings them

not from money

or what you can buy with it

or sex or religion or power

or comfort or food or drugs

or television or art or nature

and not even from love

the end of the suffering might happen

while we are consuming or experiencing these things

but there's no cause and effect relationship

just association we create

even calling it a correlation would be exaggerating

the moments of clear true painless timeless beauty and euphoria

all come solely from within

and the only thing sadder than

the people looking desperately for it

elsewhere

(seemingy content while,

trying to attain as much as they can

consuming as much as they can

thinking that's what will make things ok

that thats' the way of increasing the odds

and smiling and thinking this is as good as it gets the whole time)

are the people who understand that there's nothing out there that

will ever make them happy

and so they despair

and give up on searching

before searching their selves

and live life,

just like everyone else,

never once enraptured with wonder



Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien

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