Perhaps I’ve come to love myself much later than most of the world it seems. Which is almost…kind of…slightly the very reason why I can’t bring myself to understand most people. And of course, it’s probably for this exact reason why I stay to myself.
Usually, dying to connect but then I realize…people are just fucking weird.
I mean like seriously, why are you happy all the time? And don’t answer that because I mean obviously the question was rhetorical and besides, we all know why.
I mean scientifically they tell us chemicals are driving our brain cells to dopamine crashes, recreating new survival tatics. But then again…
Anyways, I was going somewhere with this.
Right.
“Focus on the good…” No, focus on these nuts.
I don’t trust you.
Except Mickey says, “maybe you should try it for a day or two.”
“Try what?” I said.
“Being like them,” he said.
“Being like what?”
“You know…like being happy…being jolly…”
“They’re both the same thing.”
“I know,” he said. I’m just messing with you.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
But anyways, after a few back and forths, he suddenly brought up the waiter down the street… which I’m pretty sure he slept with because Mickey only talks about women he sleeps with.
And very quickly, I diluted myself so far from words that I began to think that something was actually wrong with me.
I mean, why wasn’t I happy all the time?
“She pockets her tips,” he said.
Except in a vague way, I feel more content now.
And so now the question becomes, what’s the default?
I mean, if happiness and sadness are just “fleeting” emotions, then what is it that I’m striving for?
Until next time.
“Have you gone mad?”
“I’m afraid so. You’re entirely bonkers. But I’ll tell you a secret, all the best people are.” — Alice in Wonderland
