When it rains, it pours


Sometimes when it rains it pours. This is a famous English proverb alluding to the fact that when things go bad, they can be worse than bad. They can be so bad you want to give up on life and just not be. It can get so bad that you feel like the world must just end. Or better still you should end. Conversely, life could be so good you wish that it wouldn’t end. That you could continue being as happy as you are now.

Is such a feeling normal? Is it real? Is it really feasible? Is it possible for mere mortal man to be happy beyond all human thinking and comprehension? I don’t know. Perhaps for some, but certainly not for all. What is to be said for all those poor souls that are constantly suffering? Those that have never seen a day of joy, hope or laughter? For those in war-torn countries? What can be said for their miserable lives?

There are those who will say you should look at the positive side of things. “Every cloud has a silver lining” some say. Others say that there is “light at the end of the tunnel.” For some, and possibly for many, there is no such thing. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. With all the atrocities that continue to ravage mankind, there is not much positivity that can be said for mankind. Perhaps in another life or in another world, there is light at the end of the tunnel for everyone’s life.

I just finished reading ‘The Kite Runner.’ The way it related to me was too real and powerful. There isn’t always a happy ending in life. Sometimes resigning to one’s situation is the best way to fight a situation. Sometimes you cannot go back to how things were and so by resigning yourself to the situation, in a sense, you are in control of the situation. You know what you need to do, what needs to be done, but it is difficult to find the willpower to do so. Perhaps I shall be like Sohrab, defiantly keeping silent against the world and its ploys to make me out to be less than I am. Maybe I will allow silence to become my strongest weapon. Maybe I will be victor despite the fact that things will never be the same. No matter what I say or do. Maybe I will be consumed by my sadness and silence will be my savior. Cloaked in white, blinding me with its glow and comforting me with its brilliance. Just maybe, I may not be as psycho as my mind would have me think I am. Maybe I’m exaggerating. Maybe I’m not. Maybe this is all there is to life. Maybe it’s just a game.  A game with laughter, happiness and joy as the prize. Maybe, just maybe.


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