It is funny how nightmares can come to fruition, with the slightest wink of reality inside one's head. I know that sounds crazy, but I mean, when reality appears in one's head, during sleep, it most often comes as nightmares. Unfortunately.
Why can't we imagine life and reality in wonderful ways?
It seems so often that creativity strikes in the midst of tragedy.
Why does something that can ties us close emotionally only come through when the darkness has rotted us from within?
I wish we could tap into this gift of feeling in tandem with other souls more easily,
in ways that were more positive,
exquisitely, sumptuously positive.
Positively together.
Why are we so often united by tragedy, and not bliss?
Why is it that when bliss strikes, we all grow apart? Like our souls in the presence of a feast, must stuff only themselves? Why?

For instance, when loving others you have some pretty profound stages. For instance you have infatuation, where you adore someone because so far they fit into what you think they could be. then you learn differently, and more often than not, you're disappointed in the person they are. And you're disappointed that they aren't striving for this someone they could be. Why can't we first learn to see people as themselves, and then, from that lovely ledge make the leap to affection. Wouldn't it all be so much clearer? Wouldn't affection grow insanely, chaotically, but full of sincerity rather than expectations?

Alas, alack, what insanity permeates our daily lives.