Man's Miseries

By sitting in a room, alone and in silence, I can crush all man's miseries. Or my own, at least.

By being still I can quell the tide of chaos in my mind and let it breathe freely; a tranquil sea of calm.

By closing my eyes I can disappear the bloodstained wreckage wrought by a world armed with weapons of irrevocable devastation, a world gone mad.

But being alone, totally alone, the way in which we enter and leave this place, being still, still like a levitating sage, closing my eyes, the way in which the eyes of the perpetually blind are closed, it is easier to think, to say, to write than it is to be.

And because of this, man's miseries are sharper and keener and bloodier than ever.