An outing with my family has inspired deep thought, as it usually does. It seems like we’re perfectly incapable of not trying to dissect the world’s problems and especially those of our own - but in a very serious discussion-like manner. The few things we laugh about are usually memories. It leaves me feeling very heavy. The older I get, the more I seem only to be able to see that the good times in my life have already been, and I am unable to even picture my future. I don’t picture it full of strife or any such thing like that. Just, simply, can’t picture it at all.

They make things so complicated. Each one of them with their own set of fears, joys, hopes, needs, and despairs. I care about them so much that I want to erase every shred of doubt and worry and sadness. It makes my heart ache.

Now I am contemplative and I really don’t want to be. Time to immerse myself in some kind of entertainment.