I’m dreaming of a life where everything makes sense. I’m thinking about the way we have to pay for mistakes that aren’t ours, or worse, mistakes that we made when we were younger and much stupider. I’m dreaming of a fairytale. As a child, I never would have imagined that I would one day believe fairytales to be cruel. I never would have guessed that some of my favorite books and stories would torture me when I was older. But now I know.
I have filled my mind with so many dreams and wishes for happiness, that I have lost the real definition of happiness. I know now that I never really knew what happiness was to begin with, but was lied to from the very beginning. This leads me to assume that there are many people in the world who believe in a happiness that does not exist. Is it any wonder that we have so many people who are on medication for depression?
There should have been more to this, but I couldn't think anymore.
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