There are people who blissfully think, “Can’t things get any better?” while there are people who mournfully say, “Can’t things get any worse?”

Everyday, endless prayers of thanks. For happiness to never end. Sunshine that never ends.

Everyday, endless prayers of pleas. To end the agony. To even have a second’s worth of lucid interval from all the madness that the world has somehow deformed one’s view of the world. A plea to breathe some fresh air.

Where do we go from what we are now? Do we deserve the things that we have right now? Did we ask for whatever we have right now, good or bad?

How much does one have to strive, to work for, and to suffer, for a moment’s worth of paradise?

What is paradise, anyway? Some people who suffer too much want some fleeting fancies. Smoking. Alcohol. Some vice out there. It’s their paradise.

Some people say that it’s not a way to solve one’s problem, and the problem wouldn’t go away, really.

But maybe, with all the sufferings in the world, cut people some slack and let them have their momentary paradise.

Because it’s a long, long road, that we are traveling.

Not the easiest thing, to continue breathing everyday and facing the world.