The world was a beautiful haze, a delightful dream almost, until we grew up and nothing was what it seemed like. It’s like we were a seed planted in a garden that was never ours to begin with and the purpose of our existence was only to fail and for everything end in despair. The world been constructed in a way to fight us every minute, to prove us wrong with its every waking breath. We aren’t prepared to fight these unending battles and we aren’t protected from the wounds they bestow upon us. They leave us with nightmares and scars so we can never really move on from the pain and suffering. The whole world conspires against us and we’re expected to make magic out of it but how? How is it that we’re expected to make magic when the world is so devoid of it. Were surrounded by an illusion of happy people in a happy world but don’t be fooled, we’re all fighting our own battles and some of us are better at hiding them than others. The happiest people are the ones that ha...