Fleeting Symptom, Temporary Remedy

Today I felt a little blue.
Perhaps that's an understatement.
Then again, the queasy feeling of uneasiness that washes over once every now and then is usually rather exaggerated in one's mind. I wasn't sure how to spell "exaggerated" so I just ran a spell check, and voila, it was correct. At least according to this computerthingamajig.

I bet if I ran that spell check again the spell check would say thingamajig is a misspelling.

Well, apparently thingamajig is not a misspelling, but computerthingamajig is. What kind of dictionary does this function use as a reference anyway?

Eh, I digress.

So I was feeling rather blue after an epiphany-- well, perhaps it would be a rather silly thing to say that it was an epiphany, as it appears to be the truth -- about how dumb I was. Not only have I dulled my natural capability through various means, but I have also deterred any possible chance of growth through indolence and negligience.

Sigh.

And I suppose I've been feeling rather lonely lately. Of course, I have more to be thankful for than to complain about, but since when was melancholy rational? Not in my book, it ain't.

Thus I was drowning myself in another set of blues and woes, but I had a calm realization of my current state of being. I don't exactly feel much better, but I know better.

It's but a passing feeling. A fleeting symptom, if you may. Perhaps human beings have been plagued with a permanent disease, the symptoms of which surface from time to time. For such symptoms we seem to seek temporary remedy in order to ameliorate any pains, sorrows, or loneliness that we may suffer. Yet the disease itself goes uncured. If you may ask me, it's incurable in the first place. Sure, you may turn to religion or other sources of power higher than yourself, and not to discredit those sources, they will not cure the problem for you. As humans we were born into a life of suffering, sin, or however one may express it. At the end of the day, we were born into this mess and must bear it through until we expire.

What, then, can be done for this?

Though we strive through this uncomely mortal coil, we can still reach out higher for a dream, hope, and perhaps even, a vaccine. The disease cannot be cured so long as we live, yet we can lead lives that cures the disease. Life is not in stages, but a neverending progress, and it's just too soon to be let down by one moment or sentiment.