Good evening ladies and gentleman
Once upon a time, I was able to experience thoughts, feelings and ideas in what i believed to be a rational way, be it something that exists in my present or related to memories from my past. Emotions are good and make up the backbone of who we are, but fuck they make us stupid. Confused, irrational, jumpy people leaping at chances for happiness that could cause the heights of mesmerizing beautifully ridiculous happiness. I write this in such a way to make it sound like a terrible thing, something we should all be trying to avoid. It is anything but that. It should be embraced, as I have been trying to the best i can recently. However it does seem to put my previous more rational abilities at a a disadvantage of sorts. As at this point its as if i need to combat more of who i am to try and figure out a world that for so long i had no interest in.
More recently, i have found happiness , whether faked or not, really, really irritating. This whole obsession we have with telling the world everything they don’t want to know, forcing us to see Snapchat, Instagram and any other way they can scream out loud to everyone else, all the time, about how incredibly happy they are is just so irritating to me recently. Now i know this make me just sound like a cynical, angry little man, but as i write this, sadly, in this mood it might not be a totally unreasonable description.
I find myself irritated by happiness. As a definable concept, happiness doesn’t exist, but i feel confident to say it is something i have experienced before. I often don’t notice until the moment has passed, gone deep into the memories, locked away in another corner of the Palace of Darkness. I like being happy, for all its rarity. Its a calming effect on all the thinking, the feeling, the fear, the anxiety. You sit, stand or just be, in a single moment, without any real sensations about anything, other than just being there. Its beautiful. The way life should be.
Perhaps connected to my new found irritation for happiness in any form is the death of a particular connection, as the timing between the two does seem to make for a connection. Since the untimely demise of this connection unlike anything else i had previously experienced, i have been struggling with happy people. I hate myself for this, because the whole point of life is to be happy, whether its real or not, whether it makes sense to a third party like me or not. Your happiness is your happiness and there’s nothing anyone can do to understand, or more importantly control this.
This again, caused another brainwave, this one less fortunate. I find happiness difficult to tolerate, not because i don’t like it, or because i find myself dourly negative about the world – among all the stereotypes or boring ideals people have an awful tendency to surround themselves with. The issue is me- just me, reacting like i so often doing, to losing something, or someone, that whether i like it or not and whether i want to admit to it or not, had an effect on my happiness. I don’t hate happiness, i find happiness irritating because for a while, i have felt like i lost my happiness. I had something for a while, it was good- and then it was gone.
I know how I’m supposed to feel when i lose connections that i thought were special. I’ve seen it hundreds of times before across TV and through my friends over the years. In many ways, I have been able to study how you are supposed to feel in such a place of loss, for at one point in my life i was somehow convinced knowing how to react to something that i didn’t expect to happen would be beneficial. I find myself concentrating on this at the ignorance of everyone and everything else, pushing myself harder and harder to think further and further outside of my normal realms of reality.
I don’t know if you do this, but it’s as if i’m trying to flood myself with as many emotions as possible, anger, rage, fear jealousy, happiness, awe- everything. I know i should be in pain, i should be sad, crying even, soaking in so much negative emotion and pain at a loss of something so beautiful. It was a rare, fleeting type of connection and while it wasn’t for very long, i feel like i should feel more than this. Surely….
I should feel something. I’ve felt more than ever before the last few months, so much that to this day makes no sense, for it to all disappear really is something, To feel nothing 95 percent of the time is something else. I find there is an irritation to be found in other people’s happiness to me because something as simple as a memory, a flash, an instant in time that feels ground into the walls of my forever changing Palace of Darkness has changed a part of me, pr more the way i feel about it.
An instant in time, that once made me nothing but happy, reacting with nothing but a smile, tainted by no negativity, pain, nothing. It was there, a memory, a blip in the complicated process of life where nothing else mattered. It still makes me happy to remember this in my weaker moments, when I am isolated, when I am alone. When there is no irritation in happiness to be found, i look for it in myself. I find something once so pure and as near perfect as it could be- now tainted by pain, by the negativity and loss of something that caught my interest like nothing else has.
I feel nothing so often these days these moments are precious, but i don’t have to enjoy them and the fleeting moments of happiness they sometimes bring.
Feels like i’m more withstanding them.
Hard to say at the moment, i seem quite the complicated emotionally dramatic mess- would explain why finishing this took so long.
Yours, with love as always.