I wish I lived in a bubble.
A bubble were there was infinite bubbliness.
Where happiness was the oxygen I breathed.
Where happiness was in abundance and not limited like it is now.
I wish I lived in a bubble.
A place where people sparkled with euphoria.
Where people's smiles would glisten brighter than the sun.
Where my smile would glisten and not be stolen by the selfish moon.
I wish I lived in a bubble.
A bubble where good times would last.
And people got drunk on the champagne of love.
But the good kind of love.
The kind of love where you only sip on blissfulness.
I wish I lived in a bubble.
But I don't.
And everytime I attempt to catch it, it pops.
Leaving me as empty as I was before.
Maybe life isn't meant to be one big bubble.
Rather filled with rare but occasional bubbles.
Worthwhile moments.
Moments we sincerely appreciate.
Because to have happiness as oxygen would only lead to suffocation.
Being unable to exhale the pain would cause an irruption.
An irruption of destruction.
A volcano of agony.
Neither our lungs nor our hearts would be able to handle it.
Nor could we.
To only have glistening smiles would outshine the sun.
We'd luster.
But would we be able to take it?
Like a light bulb we'd burst and the façade would break because the voltage is too high.
Because it's all simply too much.
To only have the good kind of love would destroy us.
Getting drunk on an illusion.
Because the raw,painful, sober kind of love is the love that helps us grow.
Because when we're drunk we do things we'd never do if our subconscious was present.
To only sip on blissfulness would choke us.
And we can't handle that.
I used to wish that I lived in a bubble.
But I don't anymore.
Because to live in a bubble can only make me claustrophobic.
I'd rather struggle in reality then waste away blissfully in a delusion of effervescence.
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