Absurdity

Our imagination is slowly killed by the reality of existence. We start off full of wonder, and have it driven out of us. Ever see an adult smiling, walking down the streets or doing his job, and you think there must be something wrong with them, drugs or a mental illness, for them to be happy all the time. When did it become wrong to be happy? To be happy with life, what your part in it, with what you do?