It’s hard to be young nowadays.
We have no revolution, no war.
No plagues, and no dictatorship.
There’s nothing new, because everything ends up being a copy of the copy of an idea that someone else has already had, a long time ago.
Religion doesn’t hold us anymore.
Neither does morality.

We simply face life, and carving it, deal with it and with the people around us.
And for me that has become an impossible task.
I’d rather have problems like those at the beginning, where it’s easier to deal with, because we know what we are supposed to do.
But when we face life, we don’t know what to expect or how to react to the situations that arise in it.
I wish I could think like most of the people, but unfortunately, I don’t have that gift.
I wish I could ignore my doubts regarding this existence and satisfy myself with the football results, or what’s going on TV, on any other futility or convention  which might waste my time.
But I am restless about my intellect, about my emotions, actions, disappointments and deceptions.
Perhaps I have an issue.
Perhaps i’m just different.
I don’t understand why people seek happiness so much.
Consuming it incessantly, without caring about what exists beyond it.
I believe that life is not only happiness, and that sorrow has a similarly important role in how we see things and deal with them.
That may be because I owe much more to sorrow than to happiness.
I suppose that a person who has had more happiness than sorrow will think differently.

But this is just me being me.