Missing the beauty.
What is it right now, that makes it so hard to see something beautiful? I am exactly where I don't want to be. I know I am not seeing that which is right in front on me.
I imagine it is a kind of addiction; wanting to escape some negative feeling, doing so by replacing it with a different, but somehow altogether worse feeling. A maze inside a prison.
The irony sits with me and mocks me. Having health, wealth and a loving family, I am beholden to this ideal of joy yet, not ever really seeing it.