“They all looked so damn happy to me. Why couldn’t I look like that?” ( The Pursuit of Happyness )
We couldn’t feel the feeling until the time we went through it. I mean, we can learn to describe it using a lot of words which would also be used by the one who once felt that, but these words cannot actually arise the subtle pain and relief. It’s really strange to know that the unique me would turn out to be just another common human being, another poor creature when facing disaster.
Sometimes it feels pretty good to be part of a team, of the majority. After all, being common means no difference from others, that you can share the feeling of every happiness and sorrow of them, which would seem to happen to you someday ahead. When looking closer, there seems to be no common person. Everyone just suffers from detailed matters that drive them happy and sad and horror and whatever.