What is with this world?
Why are we all this way? When have we become these needy, slimy, egoistic, chauvinistic morons? When has the entire concept of happiness been flushed down the drain? How has everything come to be so damn wrong?
Its not anything new that I'm writing here. I'm sure every sane one of you out there (are there any left?) have wondered about this at least in one fleeting, very much ignored, nanosecond. The blight seems to be prevalent at every corner of this globe.
The blight of illness.
It irritates me to no end how all of us (including yours truly) are so involved in our more often than not, self induced or self written maladies. The more the amount of suffering you are supposed to be enduring (and failing), the more high and mighty and pumped-up you feel.
And its not restricted to comparison of bite sizes left by mosquitoes. Need I even mention mental anguish? In any conversation, there is no end to the number of problems, horrors and nightmares every one of us are supposed to be grovelling under.
The other day I listened to myself ranting on and on about some stupid, irrelevant stress that I am facing because of some supremely insignificant thing to some poor, unsuspecting soul and it occurred to me.
Happiness has just gone out of style.
Its so "in" to be tragic and morose.
As you can see, this struck me so hard, it inspired me to indulge myself in some asperity by actually bothering to write again.
You know what?
Just shut up and be happy already.
Why are we all this way? When have we become these needy, slimy, egoistic, chauvinistic morons? When has the entire concept of happiness been flushed down the drain? How has everything come to be so damn wrong?
Its not anything new that I'm writing here. I'm sure every sane one of you out there (are there any left?) have wondered about this at least in one fleeting, very much ignored, nanosecond. The blight seems to be prevalent at every corner of this globe.
The blight of illness.
It irritates me to no end how all of us (including yours truly) are so involved in our more often than not, self induced or self written maladies. The more the amount of suffering you are supposed to be enduring (and failing), the more high and mighty and pumped-up you feel.
And its not restricted to comparison of bite sizes left by mosquitoes. Need I even mention mental anguish? In any conversation, there is no end to the number of problems, horrors and nightmares every one of us are supposed to be grovelling under.
The other day I listened to myself ranting on and on about some stupid, irrelevant stress that I am facing because of some supremely insignificant thing to some poor, unsuspecting soul and it occurred to me.
Happiness has just gone out of style.
Its so "in" to be tragic and morose.
As you can see, this struck me so hard, it inspired me to indulge myself in some asperity by actually bothering to write again.
You know what?
Just shut up and be happy already.
