There is so much injustice in this world. So much horror, depression, sadness. Yet hardly anyone truly acknowledges the pain and suffering in this world. This world, the one that billions call home, is just another man-made falsehood that humans have constructed. I used to think like them: happy, optimistic, ignorant. Few in the world have been able to open their eyes. No matter how hard people have tried, it is just in our nature to cling onto the few pitiful strands of fate that we call hope.

I used to believe that one day, I would be living like royalty: rich, carefree, happy. I believed that there was good in everyone, that all one needed to do was dig deep. I was blinded and led astray by ideals- by an illusion that would never become a reality. Like most, I did not understand that happiness is an emotion that humans will never truly obtain. It is an ephemeral emotion that flickers away before one can get enough of it.

What allowed me to glimpse the true nature of the world was no tragedy that invoked the feelings of the world. It was small, and what most would label ‘insignificant’. It was betrayal. To be betrayed by people you believed to be family is heartbreaking. But, it did not break me. It fueled my anger.

Anger is kind. It is the kindest of emotions that we posses. Anger does not lie. It clarifies. It defined my world and clarified what was truly important to me. Those who claim that family is most important are all wrong. I lost a family member without having to experience a death. They were there, everyday. Smiling, laughing, lying. It was then I realized that I had never truly had a family in the first place. What I had called ‘family’ was just based off of birth and biological ties. For once, ideals were correct that family is a group of people who you held dear to your heart.

For me, in that case, I was alone, once again. I built up walls- a prison. I encased myself in my suffering, in my happiness, in my life. I would never have to share it: pain, sadness, joy. They were all the same. They say that no man is an island. That is only partially true. When one shuts him/herself from society, they are alone. To stay quiet and never truly accept the world is the same as being alone. Friends are like changes of clothes; family is merely a concept.

I have given up on pursuing happiness. No matter how much I try, it always manages to elude me. It is as if I am trying to find a single speck of darkness at night. They all look the same, but only one, out of the infinite choices is the real one. And it is that one, that no one has, or ever will find.