Everything Is Suffering

Fleeting moments of bliss. The half-hour after my morning coffee, sweet silence punctuated by hungry meows or a distant lawnmower. The satisfaction of lust; tangled in blankets staring at the moonbeams sneaking in through half-closed blinds. The subtle hum of a lazy ceiling fan cooling the sweat from our skin. This bliss is also misery, for it is perpetually ending, replaced in turn by myriad…