For Some, for Others, for Most, for All.

We can all remember a time of true happiness, A warm touch that fills our souls.
It takes us to a happy place,
Where all is good and just.
When it is lost, it will scar.
Or may never return.
If it does it is usually a sloppy, tangled embrace.
For only a fleeting moment in time.
Time, why are we dedicated to such a farce?
To an illusion brought forth by man.
Taking us on a path to the distant recollections,
Of beautiful times,
Soured by misery,
Hopefully restored or replaced.
Hopefully now a wet memory.
It’s effect on the subconscious may leave a lingering scent. And attach to another person
Another place,
Another bottle.
It is true, we never lose the appreciation for deposition.
It creates hope that there is something better,
Something beyond our thoughts,
Something to fill the void.
When can you truly look at the stars
And marvel at all the complexities of the universe.
While a mundane life spits back in anger.
We are expected to smile back,
And welcome the day with open arms.
With unwelcome distractions that will hinder our true happiness. Attempting to cloak the first time we enjoyed life.
How can we find ourselves?
For some, it is through companionship.
For others, minds lost deep in their work.
For most, imbedded in the safety of religion.
For all, finding the most comfortable way to get fucked in the ass.