The Sad Story of the Human Race

The Sad Story of the Human Race

I once had this dream and you were all there. Everyone was cheerful like those little elves on the Christmas movies. Everyone was just scurrying around about their busy little jobs and busy little lives. They were happy because they were busy. No time to think about those other "things". This dream, and I use that term loosely, was not a dream, but a nightmare. How...one might ask...everyone's happy one might proclaim. My answer is not an answer in response but a hypothetical question...everyone's happy....at what cost? So many surround themselves with their job, bills, responsibility, and the constant struggle to become somebody. Why are these things so important? I realize that to exist successfully in this economical infrastructure that one must obtain responsibility but only to oneself...but why is it priority? Why can't we let go of the stress? Maybe it's because no ones really happy with that kind of life...that busy busy go go crap, but it keeps us occupied and it stifles our thoughts. In stifling our thoughts it also stifles our insecurities, fears, wants, and desires....these things are only stifled to later be realeased into our subconcious, our dreams, and sometimes when we're by ourselves in the dark...that last minute before you fall asleep these things cross your mind leaving a discomfort like none other. That feeling of regret that feeling that you're doing too much yet too little at the same time. Life isn't that hard. It shouldn't be so full of responsibility and stress and worry. That's not how our maker intended our existance. This is the only life we have yet we continue to fill it with secular things and superficiality. It's the sad story of the human race.