Complexity doesn't necessarily equal better

Sometimes I feel like a prisoner to our generation's themes of rush, panic, anxiety, confusion, and patience. I fall into this predictable pattern- the feeling of being driven to accomplish something. I find myself constantly pursuing Something indescribable and also find myself worrying Something would be insatiable. And this is the struggle. This is the cycle. We are slaves to the trends and ways of our society. We strive for defining moments, instead of living it. We've imagined the great celebration of grandeur in the end, walking through a crowd of applause and compliments as the sounds of trumpets and trombones swarm the air, and confetti falls from the sky.

We forget the defining simple pleasures, because in the grand scheme of things, simple is never what we want. It is the simple moments that make me feel alive. Holding a cup a coffee, feeling its warmth, breathing its scent, awakening from its bitter palate. It's different, it's familiar, it's unforgettable. It is in the palm of my hands.

I am alive.

***

Yet, I am weak. Weak enough to claim the things I've claimed. But feelings and thoughts don't mean anything to anyone without the medium for expression.

I am still the slave.