I've always felt deeper than others who seemed to be always walking around with the ides of bliss in their eyes. My eyes always bemoaned a sort of perplexed juxtaposition. Even before I really swallowed the harshest dose of suffering in my life when I was nine years old... I always felt a tinge of unease about the world around me.
I wonder to myself what exactly my purpose was of incarnating in this lifetime. Surely, it must have been to soothe some karmic recompense in a former life. My suffering has reminded me of that along the way.
I really have no clear point in this particular blog entry.
Anyway, I'm growing weary of this world. Maybe it's because I'm half way through my life, but that's only if I live past my 80th year.
I see suffering everywhere these days. Looking into the eyes of others stuck in these repeating patterns of tragedies. They all seem so unhappy deep down inside. Only the psychopaths seem giddy these days, unmoved by the constancy of collective tragedy.
This kingdom we live in is one of tragedy.
Will it ever change?