The Pain of Living
There are these places that I frequent, these thoughts that I revisit, and these experiences that I recall and relive. These are parts of me, the places that I have internalised, the thoughts and experiences that made me. It is ironical that I have chosen to remember the trauma quite well, that my thoughts romanticise the pain, the places I go back to aren't attached to happy memories, not anymore. We exist to find happiness, that life itself is a great pursuit of contentment. We seek out bliss in the petrichor, in the rising and setting sun, in the sunflowers facing it, in the waning and waxing moon; that universal search joining all of humanity in invisible ties. And I have opted to break those ties, constantly preserving the trauma and seeking out some more and more.