The world both amazes and terrifies me.
It amazes me with all its subtle beauty. When you wake up with the first light of dawn or bathed in the lights of early morning, nothing feels more alive than that fleeting moment of crossing from your dream into reality.
Or how the smell of rain, or books, or coffee, fill your senses and slowly sip in your veins all throughout your body bringing you back to full capacity. It’s like inhaling a type of drug that enables your soul to keep trying and your heart to keep beating, isn’t it bizarre?
How the sound of crickets at night lull you to bed, or the rustling of the leaves outside warn you of storm or even the white noise from the TV left all night reminding you that amidst the noise, there is something left to be curious about.
But the world is a terrible place to be. And this time is a horrible point to be alive because the world is burning. No, that’s incorrect. The world is being ravaged by embers. It’s not a conflagration, but little fires destroying everything slowly.
From killing, to torture, to other unspeakable atrocities, we have bred a whole new monsters. People are the worst of beasts and we are trying to kill everything off slowly but surely.
The world is beautiful, yes. It has always been. But it is marred with morbid pictures that we have painted with blood. The world is on fire and it is dying. But worrying about it is inconvenient so we ignore it as best as we can.