Hello, Happy?

I think I just met the happiest person in the world.

The pity I feel for their ignorance is immense.

Though it’s as if innocence is the only true magic left in this world.

For most of us, life seems to be nothing more than punishment for crimes committed in a past life.

Even infants carry the faint scent of a rotten soul.

The stench fills our world like smog—

the skies are dark, the air is cold.

Oh, the pity I feel for this lost soul.

A smile? A laugh? A glimmer of hope?

Have they not realized the truth yet—

still clinging to salvation, to a promised rapture?

I think the happiest person alive must be deaf, blind, and dumb.

And yet, shouldn’t despair be an inherited trait,

passed down through generations, boiling in a pot of dread and suffering?

I envy the infancy of this soul.

Happiness?