Pain. 

Pain, an interim of our consciousness, a stigma of yesterdays’s reminders and tomorrow’s uncertainty. What is this pain, anyway? The relation of toe to the table edge or the dislodged collar bone, or may be that nasty fall. Perhaps, it is the hollow in our heart, the haunting memories, the sleepless nights, the love that was lost, the life that left behind, the silent shrieks, the long showers,  the reason for the disappointment, or may be, may be the knife in the back.

Amidst the chaos of unpleasantness, there is a ray of sunshine, shining down like a reminder of possibilities and the endless dreams that once perceived great many things. A perception of an ideal entity that the mind constructed around the forewalls of despair and disappointment. That broken heart for the lost, that shattered trust, the eyes that wept endlessly, the emptiness left behind, it hurts. It hurts so bad. Like the air we breathe suffocating, sucking out the air we breathe, the confusion that that surrounds, the darkness that prevails. Like drowning in an ocean, the water pushing you down, despite the struggle to see light for once. Like an engulfing tornado, twirling and swirling, stuck among thunderstorms and hails. Because there is sunshine always, but the storm consumes it all.

Pain.
The beautiful maligned form of freedom and a force that lays a path to success. Because this broken, cliched, shattered notion of pain is what makes one stronger, beyond approach. Because there’s always sunshine after the storm.

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– Westworld, TV Series 
Conversations in the show.