Cynicism over cynicism

Apparently, at some young age around 10, my smile inverted - permanently, it seems.

On my worst days, I struggle to see anything more than a disorderly mess of humans, obsessed with the ordinary, stricken with an abstract fear of ‘worsening affairs’, and living beings that vindicate life in exchange for mere comfort.

It is not a lack of the extraordinary among us that I am remiss of, rather the pervasiveness of such ordinary beliefs about what it means to live at all. In a brief bout, it seems most would rather dwell amongst the ‘known’ than anything but, never even to question the ‘known’ much less extend its foggy reach.

I believe this sickens me because of how short of our capacity we trend, and with such glee.

Related, but not completely fitting - a wise man once said: "To live is to risk it all, otherwise you’re just an inert chunk of randomly assembled molecules drifting wherever the universe blows you"