"We live in mysterious times." I have heard this saying a thousand times. What is so mysterious about it? There are so many problems that are both burdensome now, and perhaps burdensome tomorrow. We carry the sins of our mothers and fathers. Some sins you have never known, nor will know. I don't blame them for that. Yes, the universe may be grandiose and splendid, but we uncover her secrets bit by bit, and she doesn't seem so mysterious after all.

We, ourselves, made the world so kafkaesque, to hide our secrets, our shames, our misdeeds, and our mistakes. To prevent others from achieving happiness and to drag them down further. We try to order, and bring unto order, but all it is is pointing the gun to our heads, closer, and closer, readying to pull the trigger.

We may claim to try to make the world better, yet, it only adds to more difficulties. The cries of a generation trying to make things better, but with the conformism of a modern confortable lifestyle. The lust of false life deceived by our own monsters.

Thank you, Mother, Father, for trying to make the world a better place, but I think it may be time for me to grab the reins of fate and continue to strive for a better world.

What can we do? Do we sit and pray for the best? Do we continue going on with our lives thinking everything is okay? Am I okay with the treatment of others and the mundanity that is life? Is this really my fate? Is the world really that strange?