happiness, happi-less

Don't let happiness bite you in the nose. It might be contagious.

When I was sixteen, I used to think that being miserable was a way of life, that I was "happy being sad" , looking back, I can say that I feared being happy. I feared getting that happiness itch on my nose and then having it spread all through my body and before knowing it, losing all inspiration to write, to make music and to make my world turn. During this time of my life, I used to take actions that I knew would hurt me in order to function. By ninteen, I realized that I was living on an illusion: I didn't have the need to torture myself emotionally for my system to work. Maybe happiness was, after all, attainable. I still feared it, though, for reasons that I still don't understand. I had some weak attempts at being happy but overall, I kept myself busy enough to not have the time to care for my well-being. I was living in a mild state of "not happy, not sad". I used to say I enjoyed being by myself.

Six years later, I'm waking up from that numbness and realizing that I'm in a stage in my life where I have the right of happiness. Bliss can come in many ways, but it's usually when you get a taste of it that you start craving it. When a person comes along that blows your mind away and touches your life in such a fashion that it loses all stability. Such person makes you question your ways, think about the future and set yourself a new stage to reach. Such person makes you feel the itch and helps to spread it all over you.