Happiness is such a funny thing, it's anything but true to form and yet we use it to measure the value of every single waking and sleeping moment of our lives. Happiness is so self centred no matter how you look at it. It craves, it begs, it desires, it's hungry.
But what does it mean to be happy?
Have I ever felt truly happy?
Or just the short burst of happiness of being distracted by little things; materialistic need fulfilled.
Is happiness supposed to be a constant? They say the one constant is change, but people's need to be happy is a constant of itself and the two therefore contradict themselves by their own meanings.
One can't be constantly changing while staying in a constant state of elation, it'd be a standstill.
Or should happiness be short bursts of distracted, temporary fulfillment?
I don't know If I've ever actually really been happy, or just distracted. I think I would have to redefine my own preconceived notion about it to ever, really, be able to know whether or not I've been one to experience it. Whatever it is.
But I will say one thing, if you have ever felt what it's like to be happy, no matter the conditions and boundaries of your definition of happiness, hold on to it for as long as your hands can bear.
Because eventually you'll be in my place, questioning whether or not it ever made you happy to begin with.
But when you do reach this point, this stalemate, you'll find the most terrifying question of them all: what do you do next? and who will I disappoint?
- Eli
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Cracks In The Concrete
PoetryThis book is the progress I make over the years trying to detangle years of childhood trauma and mental issue's. To anyone else it may seem completely incomprehensible but that's okay. I write for the reason all writers write, paper is a better lis...
