Buoyant Bubbles

In what certainty do we believe in tomorrow. The one day that everyone is optimistic about. One more day to make things better. What we have and how much we have doesn’t matter, morrow is the day to make them better. Stability and staticness of one’s life is just an illusion that we have created for ourselves, for the better or worse.

Complaceny is a lie and Stasis, a state of frustration. Subconsiously we are all thriving for change. Denial of which stimulates anger and disappointment into myriad forms of itself, eating away at our core. Slowly turning us into hollow shells, denied of purpose.

The beacon of light far away, a mirage that we call purpose. A lie that we keep on telling ourselves, to convince ourselves that our lives matter. Our lives are like the bubbles accompanying a wave. Singularly we don’t matter, a part of the collective froth. Our bursts – mere vibrations felt by the nearbys. But waves come and go, sprouting new lives with each fall. Screams drowned in the din of crashes.

We play our role still, half of our actions mechanical driving us to that beacon distant. Hoping to be the one bubble that stays ashore.


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