There is an unknown Happiness hidden in suffering, we condemn sorrow, isnt something we even vaguely care to acknowledge, even when it makes us value the few moments of joy and pleasure we experience from time to time.
Self inflicted as it may be, its cast away into downtown Denial ally, trying hard not to bat an eye at it even when its pounding at your ribcage like a feral beast, pinned down, fogging your vision.
Or is it just so overwhelming that people just go numb under it, like when you just find it hard to move as a pair of headlights just swerve right into you, you know it could kill you, hurt you even your mind chooses a easier way out and blanks out instead of jumping every single muscle in your body to throw you out from under the bus.
In that moment of blankly staring death right in the eye there is almost dull, fading but pleasant Feeling serenading you. Mind body and soul.
If somehow by a stroke of luck you make it through with just a few scratches, every time you look back, no matter how hard you try, that faint thread of a happy moment skips out from this memory, the more you look, the more it disappears.
There really is some twisted form of joy in misery. We get off on it, We savour it better than the most incredible moments in life, but just don't know what it really is; Can't remember, Cant forget yet you always long for more of the same.
Self inflicted as it may be, its cast away into downtown Denial ally, trying hard not to bat an eye at it even when its pounding at your ribcage like a feral beast, pinned down, fogging your vision.
Or is it just so overwhelming that people just go numb under it, like when you just find it hard to move as a pair of headlights just swerve right into you, you know it could kill you, hurt you even your mind chooses a easier way out and blanks out instead of jumping every single muscle in your body to throw you out from under the bus.
In that moment of blankly staring death right in the eye there is almost dull, fading but pleasant Feeling serenading you. Mind body and soul.
If somehow by a stroke of luck you make it through with just a few scratches, every time you look back, no matter how hard you try, that faint thread of a happy moment skips out from this memory, the more you look, the more it disappears.
There really is some twisted form of joy in misery. We get off on it, We savour it better than the most incredible moments in life, but just don't know what it really is; Can't remember, Cant forget yet you always long for more of the same.
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