Over a year ago I had an interesting experience on a psychadelic that is in line with your thoughts here. I then thought of my mother and how she worked her ass off to give her only kid a good childhood, rather than collect a welfare check, or child support from a deadbeat dad who she ditched while she was pregnant. I went down a whole rabbit hole of thought on how fucking tough she is and everything she’s sacrificed for me. She has fought tooth and nail and sacrificed every dream that she had to raise a child by herself, without letting anyone tell her how to do it, including the liberal moron teachers who complained about the kid “not following the rules” in grade school. She suffered, both physically and mentally, drank through it and carried on every goddamn day, because that’s what a person does when they love their child. This is the only miracle I believe in.
Life is the result of random shit, for better or for worse. The strong make the best out of the hand they’re dealt, but society is catering to the propagation of the weak. Darwin’s law is no longer valid.
This experience is the only time I’ve cried like a little bitch since childhood, because this primordial struggle of life is both horrifying and beautiful.