Happiness.
I may have only been crawling, walking and riding around for one quarter of a century but I can say one thing for sure about happiness. It does exist, but it's not quite the fancy show many were taught. For too long my two main focuses on what I believed would make me happy was that certain "love" and money. If I could just ascertain those two things everything would be fine. I suppose even now I do still views those two things in a similar light, however I've learned something about those two things as they have remained illuminated in my mind for so long.
I reflect back on early years and see myself happy. Before my teens, before the reality of the world began rearing its ugly head into my life as any other. No matter what experiences I had acquired in life up to that point, whenever it was, could have prepared for the decades long shock which would follow. Like a paradigm shift which spontaneously would occur and warp perspectives at a moments notice on some idle weekday. Loss and grief being the two at the forefront which have grasped me more than anything, or at least for a time.
Not sure what it was or when. Maybe after kicking medication to the curb, denying any psychiatric help. It began to seem like a pointless cycle draining me of funds, time and what I would pray to be a good nights sleep. Maybe after realizing the soul rending experiences which drives us all are like a fuel to keep that undying desire from ever being destroyed by the plastic world too many have fell victim too. I and many others cannot deny being stuck in that kind of rut, even if the circumstances differ, many find themselves in a place where everyday somehow begins to feel the same. That's when I began to see it.
Expectations blossoming. Sure, they are delusions I create to comfort my mind when drifting into sleep, fantasies which lull a tired mind into slumber for another night in hopes they will come to fruition one day. Even if they don't, the thought still comforts a weary mind wishing for more in a world which seems to be doing everything it can to complicate itself. Some nights I dream of great explosions, destruction wringing the neck of the world and bringing a total end to the life man would know, giving way to what may either be eternity on a dead planet or something far down the road which becomes the next great being of some small body hurtling through space. Other nights I think of a pleasant conversation with a potentially significant other, basing what they may say off what I know of them. Movements, body language, the tone of their words and the choice of responses.
But some nights may be truly blissful. I fantasize of a good future. One in which men are good to one another. One in which appreciation for life has reached different level. Not necessarily higher, but a common bond. I would dream of the sun not feeling so cold, the touch of another on wanting skin, the embrace of a cool lake clean and clear. Grain over fingertips and the smell of crab apples rotting in the autumn. I would dream of places where all those things which have pleased the senses could take place and absolute peace would settle in. Think of mom, dad, even the sibling I claim to hate. All these things were for me in the way they were. Shared experiences of thousands, but unique to each individual struggling to retain their identity in a world so focused on filing itself away in categorized boxes.
There I can say I have found genuine happiness. In those thoughts alone, I can say without a doubt that absolutely beautiful glimmer of hope and fantasy are the keystones I cannot survive without. Just know, no matter what. Everything will be alright.
