I have no idea when I started this draft, but I am pretty sure it was as depressing as can be. The title itself says it all. I just have to post it for the sake of staying on a roll. This world scares me and the fact that I was writing about “happiness” scares me even more. I do not believe in ultimate “happiness”. If you walk around asking each person you meet about the definition of “happiness”, I am pretty sure there will never be two answers alike. That is of course if you are asking people to be specific.
I live in fear of finding out what “happiness” really is.
I do not care to pursue it. All I know is that I was born to die. Life goes on and I could be speaking like someone from another dimension. I could have a twin. I do not know.
Let us just live and do what we feel we need to do. We all die at some point.
It does not matter what you buy, what you own, what you believe in, what you love, who you love or whether you were loved or not. We all die in the end. Can anyone deny that?
I may be pessimistic to your eyes, but in fact I am realistic in my own eyes.
And that is all that matters.