Melancholy and the Infinite Suffering

Sometimes, ignorance really is bliss. But an awareness of ignorance? That's the kicker...

I don't know if there is any worse feeling than having knowledge of something, a situation, and not having the ability to change it. Virtual hopelessness.

It doesn't matter if the situation involves a loved one, or strangers. Thousands of them. Millions of them. All struggling, whether in oblivion or not.

Awareness hurts, but so, too, does the knowledge that we're ignorant to the excessive suffering of others. On some level, we know it's happening even when we don't know the particulars.

Awareness is supposed to encourage action, but sometimes, wish though we might, we can't just step in and attempt to "fix" the problem ourselves. Boundaries.

...

The blackness of their eyes haunts me. The pain they don't even attempt to conceal because it's their right to make themselves heard. The lifeless bodies of the innocents, the cries of women many times raped, have done little to jolt us into action. So, it's all in the eyes. All they have left.

...

This is one of my gray days...where there is no right or wrong, black or white, but solely what lies between. And while the world is gray, they are dying.