Happiness is hypocritical in a sense,
as the most unhappy thing I can think of is not being happy.
People tell you what to be,
been there
regretted that.
And yet,
am I happy?
When panic grips me,
is it truly unhappiness or just stubborn belief that I can’t make myself believe,
that I am ok,
that my rambling words make sense,
that my stupid stutters that pass for words
are a valid validation
of my being.
Happiness is to abstract to grasp- grasping at straws just leaves you without a drink.
The absolute insistence on a man made word kills more dreams than suicide ever did
so
maybe
happiness should be scrapped,
for lack of a better word to describe a word that could be better.
and maybe we can just feel our feelings
with out feeling like the world is telling us that these make us an unhappy person