The Cycle

Dear reader, I wish I could tell you that it ends well. I wish I could add trauma, sadness, pain, all of it in your story and still weave it to a happy end. But that's not life, is it?

You were born, and it was the best day of someone's life. You grew up, wrapped up in childhood's innocence, certain you'll get a fairytale ending. You became a teenager and you realised that life isn't as perfect as you imagined it to be. You looked around and you saw there's so much going around, so much hatred. You decided you are going to change the world. Then, you became so entrapped in your worldly affairs, you forgot about it. You got a job, a partner, kids, maybe even a pet. You looked around you and you saw there's a thick veil between you and the things that earlier used to break your heart. You became indifferent. Yet, you continued to grow.

But, eventually, your frail body decayed and you couldn't take anymore of anything. You died. You may think I'm blunt, but it's the bitter truth. Everyone has to die. You died and you came home to me. You felt everything will be alright.

But I'm cruel, my beloved reader. I can't help it, I like things in my control. So I mould you in a different shape and send you back again to start the cycle all over again. Dear reader, I really wish I could tell you that it ends well. But it never does.