Other essays on this theme

Essay: "Simple Pleasures"

Through years of incarcerated breath taking moments, and pure visualization of being alone inside this "City of Iron," I haven't yet been able to experience a cheerful feeling of being able to write or converse with someone on the outside. I have sunken through the cracks of this putrid place, and just been a young statistic of the factual world. I'm 22 years old, and with half a decade under my belt, I'm just an updated edition to the solid working brigade inside the institution of world rejects. A prison society that has no real purpose but to oppress a human, and destroy any moral ways of survival.

Amply, it's very hard to define or even actually feel a thing like simple pleasures of life. Through many years of curses that I reaped, I've received them back ten-fold. I've sowed my own future into the ground of unbearable consequences. Trials and tribulations cluster my life, and my mind has developed an imaginary world where hate is love, and death is life. And with the scale of truth roaming inside my heart, I turn and run back into the trap I have created for myself to dwell in. Please don't get me wrong--I'm normal, but I have many defects that make me look weird. Usually I can describe how a person can find a simple pleasure in life, but that's their own private lives. Seems for me to have a simple pleasure would be to look at the world with my eyes, and not get shocked at what I have seen and experienced in life. It's hard to feel good inside, when nobody is there to cradle away the pain of being alone for many years.

Sometimes I feel that my life is over, and I have run out of time and seeped through to another dimension, but all that is just in my intricate mind. As long as my heart feels one day someone will find me that would be a simpler pleasure to maybe enjoy.