“I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life.”
-Virginia Woolfe
I am unsure of how we are supposed to live but I know this isn’t it. There must be something more than this meandering misery. On the other hand life cannot be lived in complete happiness, to do so would be to live in madness. A life of torment and torture hidden behind a false mask of joy. Life is meant to be lived in the moments and it’s those moments that matter, the little things.
Their are always the little things, even in the darkest of moments, the distant shining light amidst the pain and suffering, the little things shine through. A cup of tea from a friend, a simple and much needed distraction, an unexpected and meaningful gift or those moment of pure clarity and beauty, when the world stops just for you and that moment belongs solely to you and the world.
Until I get bored... 
This strikes a chord with me, life can feel like an endless blackness sometimes, but the odd glimmer of joy or moment of happiness can make it all feel worthwhile. The wait for the next moment of enjoyment can be a painful one though, and I find myself sinking quickly if they are too few. Maybe i should lower my standards..
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