mutability

"i wish i was like you - easily amused." - kurt cobain
what is it that makes us such inconstant creatures? what makes us happy one day makes us restless the next. we can work for something, put blood sweat tears more blood more tears less sweat into something, and then one day it's not enough. we are like children, greedily casting away toys that our parents have put thought into, paid money for.
and relationships. this one is boring - not holding my attention. time to find some new pussy.
and drugs, booze included - enjoyable and pathetic ways to pass the hours of your life, enhancing or stifling your senses so that you might appreciate what you have around you. "whoa! the floor is like water!" haven't you ever had your washing machine overflow? "dude - look at all the fucking colours" (these exist in the real, tangible world my friend. next time you're not lying face down on the floor, look out the window!)
waking up one day, five years down the road in a fucking haze, realizing that you had meaning, had beauty all around you this whole time.
but it wasn't enough.

please don't misunderstand me - i'm just as bad as the next person. but, you know, it just makes me sad.