Eyes open, eyes closed

Eyes closed.
My mind can take me wherever I want to go.
I’m deep in the galaxy. The white stars a drast contrast against the purple-black sky. I float endlessly. I am filled with complete peace and contentedness.

I’m laying in a field, tall grass rises up around me. Somewhere in the distance, the sounds of children’s laughter and playful shrieks reaches my ears. This is what happiness feels like.

Eyes open.
My mind struggles to remove the visions in front of me. 
A couple argues, children’s tears seem to flow endlessly. Funds are tight, everyone wishes for a miracle. I am powerless, incapable of fixing things.

A family gutted by the loss of a parent, a grandparent, an uncle, a friend. A man drones on, but no one can keep attention, their minds drifting to places where the loss didn’t exist. Tears dry on their faces, tissues become balled up in their hands. No one can remember what it’s like to feel happy.

So I keep my eyes closed. Let myself imagine. Because while your brain can be dangerous, reality is always scarier.
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