A Bitter Pill

How often do we ignore the signs of our own inner decay? How far must we fall before we begin to look upon the facts and facets of our existence and think "This is not what the world has in store for me!"?
But on a more practical level, how much does it really matter? What sway have we over the myriad factors which make up the current state of affairs in our lives, let alone the standards of the world around us?
For if pessimism is to look at the glass half-empty, where does it leave us when we refuse to believe that the glass holds any liquid at all, insisting instead that the contents are merely a delusion brought about by an unendurable string of let-downs, stress-induced and self-sustained?
How paltry do all of our past assertions about the inherent goodness of mankind, the indomitable aspects of the human spirit, and the inevitable triumph of the unyielding prove to be, when all of that for which we've striven slips away and leaves us barren and destitute, struggling on day after day, enduring the blame and the castigation, seeking nothing more than some semblance of contentment, and falling ineluctably into a maelstrom of despair and desuetude?
What, my friends, or perhaps that epithet is a bit too familiar.. What, my fellow humans, what is the point of striving? Why not just lay down and die?
Because death is too final, and we covet the pain. Oh god do we covet it. For to hurt is to feel, and at times it seems that's all we have left.
~Codaniel Von Johnson~