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