It’s past midnight actually. & my ramblings are more observations. or thoughtful ideas. or…something.
Anyway, the point is that it’s midnight. And I’m writing. Something I haven’t done in a really long time. && by “really” I actually mean “I haven’t done this in so long that I don’t remember what it is like not to be writing due to heartbreak or disillusion or other related teenage angst” long time. I forgot what it was like to just think and write, uninterrupted by hesitancy. I
want need to write. to bring out my words, minimally edited for fear of reaction of others..or myself.
Life has semi-recently forced me into this place. As awful as it sounds, I want happiness. True, limitless, flawed happiness. & I’ve been able to reach it. Granted, I have gotten in my own way countless times in the process and regressed into my usual state of doubt and insecurity. Let’s not focus on that tidbit too long. The point is, I know I can be happy, which in and of itself brings me happiness.
I guess my question is “what is happiness?”
having everything be perfect, achieving all of my goals, reaching nirvana, being self-actualized, having no interpersonal conflicts, thinking I am flawless, having peace and acceptance? Obviously, I’m not quite sure…& I’m okay with that.