Why can we no longer marvel at things we've already seen?

Why do we hate ourselves?

When we meet someone again after it's been a while we say "you used to-" and "you now-". Why can't we say "it is amazing that we see each other again"? Why can't we see the miracle of an event recurring?

Why do we stop trying?
Why do we stop caring?

Why are sunrises no longer beautiful?

Why do we need recognition?

Why do sunsets represent the end?

Why do we have to be happy?

Why do we have to live with the expectation that it will or will not happen again?

Why do we die?

Why can't we live with the amazement that we are alive and human?

Why do we live?

Why can't I be okay?