Life was dull as far back as I remember it.

Perhaps less dull, and more complacent. Days passing with no rhyme or reason, deadlines blurring, hobbies dying out.

Back then I would have called it boring, perhaps even painful at times. And while I won't claim to disagree now, without knowing it, I believe I was living in an ignorance that I find myself seeking often now.

A blissful lack of understanding, a mind free of the burden of infinite contents.

So as I look back at the haziness that was my life, I feel a sense of envy. Not at the conditions, but at being so thoroughly unaware of what is to come within the near future.

Unaware of how soon I'd be thrust into a neverending torture, that made hell seem quaint.