I am a bird

Satisfaction is beyond the grasp of humanity. We’re just not meant to be satisfied, but always craving for something different. Not necessarily something more, but different. Something we do not have, or had but lost. Something we didn’t value at the time, and now regret.

The present is something we never live in. The past is what we know, and therefore it’s what we feel. The future is what we expect, and therefore a projection of past pleasures, half-felt or fully regretted that we can only hope to live again, or fully. We certainly can hope for what we’ve never known, tempted by empathy or the perverse twist of marketing. Should we ever attain our projected goals and live again the past pleasures, we could not even take solace in them, unable to bask in their present glory and still trapped in the melancholy that is our lives.

Only pain brings us back to the immediate. Some pleasures can do it too, I’ll admit it, but their full power is only revealed once they are part of the past, while pain works the other way around.

Pain puts you right where you are, and corners you there. Stuck, and struck.