Why is it that when you start to think that Life is beautiful and great shit comes along and breaks you up and leaves you hanging high and dry? And just when everything seems to be nothing but a cesspool and you think that's all there is to mankind, a random act of selfless kindness regenerates your lost belief. Why are such cruel games played on us? There is a constant struggle within me to trust and believe in the essential goodness of man, yet time and time again I am let down and disappointed, thrown about and discarded like useless clay.
Just as how we are all dichotimic characters and we require that certain tension within us to survive, to equate the balance of mankind and nature. But couldn't that balance be more clearly drawn out for us? So that we can stop hopping around on one leg, desperately trying to find our spot of gravity?

I find myself more and more distanced from people. Their pain, their joy; it's all just another paragraph of Life. My grief, my happiness; just another nameless person in a faceless world.

Enough is never enough. Good is never good. Bad is never bad.
It's all relative.

So why am I clutching onto my jaded heart in the corner?