Am I happy?
Most people know what to say right off of the get go. Of course they're happy, why shouldn't they be happy? They have all the comforts that life can provide and are surrounded by loved ones and friends. What's not to be happy about?
I didn't know what to say. There is no straight answer to that painfully simple question, at least for me. One reason is that I'm not so sure what happiness is anymore.
I know a bit about what happiness isn't. It hits me straight between the eyes when a hit is taken. It's disguised as that initial rush from that first hit But at times it's that first hit that makes me feel a little bit closer to normal but really not happy. What the hell normal is really?
Once someone told me that normal was just a cycle on a washing machine.
So, am I happy?
Well to tell the truth, I've been a hell of a lot happier. But now thinking about those happy times is only a source of pain. Those happy times will never be regained. Too much time and neglect, mostly mine toward others has gone by the boards.
No more whining. At least not here. It was the pursuit of happiness that got me here. Happiness can't be pursued though, you just have to let it happen. If it's forced it's just a fleeting thing. Just out of reach and never fully achieved.
I guess I should be happy still being alive after the hell I've gone through. I should be happy there is a roof over my head, plenty of food for my belly and a few bucks in my pocket. I also should be happy that there are at least a few people who will talk to me as a person and not a piece of human refuge that so many associate with crackheads.
I mean, crackheads have feelings too...
And the beast?
The beast is never happy, even when it's fed, it's just wants more and more and more. So twenty bucks and a little snack to shut it's mouth for awhile. Not much of a snack, but it's quiet for now.
For a little while anyway.