Waiting for Happiness

      Why did they even bother? It wasn't like it was going to make a big difference, if not no difference at all.  Was there really a need for this?  Some very wise people will argue that no, this is the pure selfish wish of the leaders of the modern world.  Others, presumably these leaders, will argue that it is a fundamental process that is going to shape the future for generations to come.  And then there were the people in the middle who just didn't have an opinion in this matter, those who didn't care, those who were neutral, and those that won't come near a debate, maniacally sure everyone is out to get them.  Humanity passes through these trifles generation after generation, but for all their effort toward society, they fail to see the problems plagued in people they see everyday.  So where was the truth?  Buried deep somewhere in the constantly flowing river of time or right in front of us, teasing us by staying there and having one up on us while we blindly looked for it everywhere but where it is hidden? 

         But we shall now focus our attention on the group of people that just didn't care about these matters.  They were interesting themselves even though they failed to see anything interesting around them or about themselves.  They lived life in shades of drab gray, each day wondering how such a miracle as life could come to be known as the empty existence they were now leading.  Their unfocused stare was that of beat down, watered eyes that can look but cannot see, as they place the burden of self-pity upon their minds.  'What is wrong with me?' they constantly ask themselves, trying to figure out the one thing they had done wrong, or the twist in their life that had caused it all, but for all their searching, they found nothing.  For depression comes not abruptly, rather it takes to hiding in the shadows of the night for it's next victim, whose spirit they could drain out slowly and over time until they become but a shell of what they once were.  A doll, a puppet as they are persuaded to turn against themselves and all they had once lived for.  They try to think of a way, an escape from the prison they have built around themselves waiting for dawn to come once again.  To once again see the light and joy of simple life.  To once again be able to breathe freely, forget everything and simply be.  They long for nothing more and so they wait, in silent unnoticed agony, for happiness to be reborn.