Why do moments of bitter clarity come 'round so easily when we are better off sleeping?

I've slowly been realizing that misfortune doesn't seek me out. Au contraire! I have been looking for woe and misery most of my life, all the while claiming that "I just wish I could be happy for once". But "happy" is not what I am accustomed to.

How many of us wander aimlessly through life, with pain as the only sensation sharp enough to cut through the numbness and apathy that has become our only solace? Is pain, as the cliche goes, the only way to know we are alive? Or does a brighter fate await us to reward our strength and patience?

We can only wait and hope.

Good night my little birds.
Raavynn