Thoughts Under A Willow Tree

Life Sucks

Life, at some point or another, tends to suck. And let's be honest, whether you're sixteen or sixty, rich or struggling, your mind has probably drifted to that same conclusion. It's almost universal. Unless, of course, you're some saintly figure or a being from another dimension that transcends human grumbling, you've probably had your moments of staring at the ceiling, muttering, "Life sucks."

But here's the curious thing—while we're often told to "focus on the positives" and "find the silver lining," it seems like our first instinct in tough times is to zoom in on the negatives. Why? Why, in a world where Instagram influencers preach gratitude and motivational quotes flood our feeds, do we still fall back on complaining? It's as if negativity is our default setting, hardwired into our brains. Perhaps if aliens do exist, they're floating out in the cosmos, griping about the lack of Wi-Fi on their spaceships.

Take relationships, for example. It's fascinating how people in love can spend hours lamenting the minor annoyances of their partner. Girlfriends complain that their boyfriends don't do this or that, yet never seem to address the problem directly. They stay together, locked in a dance of mutual grumbling. Is it because deep down, they love the drama? Or maybe complaining is just easier than changing. After all, who wants to rock the boat when you're still very much in love with the person? It's an odd paradox—passion and irritation walking hand in hand.

I've never been in a relationship myself, so maybe I'm not the expert here, but I do find it amusing how much people complain about things they don't intend to fix. It's like they're screaming on a roller coaster, not because they're in danger, but because it feels good to let out a little terror. Maybe that's what complaining really is—a release of tension, a scream to the universe that says, "Hey, I see this problem, but I'm not ready to deal with it, so let me just vent for a while."

And isn't that the essence of it? Life doesn't really suck, does it? We just like to complain about it, even when the issues are small, as if whining is our collective coping mechanism for getting through the mundane or the mildly frustrating. Maybe it's because we need to feel heard, even if the only listener is our reflection or our closest friend.

So perhaps life doesn't suck after all. Or maybe it does, but only if we let it. Maybe our love for venting, for rolling our eyes at the small stuff, is what gives life its flavor. After all, without a little bit of complaining, how would we know when things are actually going well? Or who knows—I could be totally wrong and end up philosophically roasted for this take. But I certainly hope life doesn't suck for you!