i hate happy people. i realise this in zapped instances over the past few weeks and increasingly so over the past few days. i hate to see pople having fun. i hate to see people not caring about their circumstances. i ultimately hate seeing people not needing to care about their circumstances.
why? because i don’t see what there is to be happy about. happiness, in all its deceitful glory if a farce. impermanent. temporary. what’s the use of being happy if something is going to come along and piss you off again the next minute?
maybe hate is too strong a word. dislike. don’t like. more like can’t stand. i can’t stand.
and maybe it is not the happiness that i can’t stand. more like the reason why people become happy. more like the reason why i cannot be. more like the unfairness of this whole scenario.
it is envy. in its most vile form.
i want that. i want to be happy. i want the carelessness. a reason for carelessness. i want to live more. to worry less. i want to love. to be loved. to be happy just like that.
i don’t ask for much.
i am confused. i no longer understand how happiness works. and i don’t get it, nor am i enjoying it. how can i be happy about so called little things, when there are so many other, much bigger things in my life weighing down so heavily on me, or burning a hole right through me, or both so, at the same time?
i am confused over the best thing. versus the right thing. verses the should. versus the could. versus the would.
versus my heart.
so there. i cannot understand what people are happy about. and what i cannot understand bothers me. maybe i think too much. maybe i worry too much. isn’t it unfair that it is me and not, say, you?