Tomorrow

By some definition of tomorrow.

OK, for me happiness would equal success. The two are separate concepts and I was confusing them internally. Now maybe I am not.

What would make me happy? Certainly not a far amount of success. (Which, by more objective sources then myself (not hard by the way) I have achieved on multiple fronts.) Perhaps being able to honestly count a success as a success might help though. I have quite a bit trouble doing that. For me, the fact that the glass is half full is irrelevant, I wanna know who stole my water. Often times, I even forget that I am not that thirsty.

Still, I try. In fact, these writings are one of the many ways I try to exercise the demons of stupidity. But they are tenacious.

OK, so what would make me happy. I mean long term happy, not just for the hour, day or even the week, although I have never been happy for a week straight I don’t think.

I think, in part, we are designed (by natural selection) to be unhappy. As I said earlier, I think, for me contentment is an element of happiness. But doesn’t contentment mean pausing and just accepting rather than trying to strive? I think I am afraid of that pause. If I am not constantly diligent. Constantly, at least treading water, then I think I’ll sink. And what little consistently and stability I have (you know, food, clothes, shelter) will unravel. To some degree that’s true. I can’t just stop. I can’t even just stop and do something else. There’s plenty I gotta do, just like most other folks, that I don’t always (or usually) feel like doing.

So maybe finically independence (which is not in my future) would one key to my happiness. But A) it ain’t gonna happen and B) it seems pretty shallow. Perhaps naively I believe happiness should not come with a price tag. I think money can but some happiness, but the cliche mostly holds true, I think. I guess if I was able to use my finical independence to do more of what I wanted to do that could generate real and sustained happiness. I am not sure. I am not sure, in part, because I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have to do anything. I’ve thought about it. I worry I’d just be bored and sleep all the time (even more than I do now). But realistically the idea of being able to just what I want (more or less) is so far removed from my reality I just don’t know. Maybe this is another case of black and white thinking though. Isn’t the real art is being able to craft happiness from what you can do, rather than what you imagine you’d like to do?

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