Sometimes people ask me why I’m so happy. They reference
from the old saying that only the stupid can be, well stupid enough to be
They ask of my perspective and how I think outside their spectrum.
And it’s not that I am smarter, it’s not that I’ve grown to learn etiquette and
morals and have mastered them, no. It’s that I haven’t been entrapped in the
life. We have it defined here. We have language, goals, the good and the bad
all “defined.” Yet they are different depending on the person. Money does buy
happiness and I don’t give a shit what people say. And it does so by buying
distractions, a stupor, a high, some euphoric fantasy.
I’m not above any of it. I like to drink. I enjoy a smoke.
Sex is, well try it and you tell me. But I’m outside the scope of what my car
represents. Whether my leather is real or not. I naturally love what’s
expensive, but that’s mostly because an animal made my belt or someone worked
their ass off to make the product I enjoy. But problems, worldly problems, they
don’t matter. Okay fine, so you had a bad day. Fine, so you are beginning to
lose hope. Fine, you’re all out of makeup; meanwhile, an animal hardly thinks
in words, the mountains only respond to lava, the stars are burning until they
engulf themselves into a supernova, and we’re worried about what someone thinks
of us? What a 16, 25, 50, whatever year old mind. What is really a brief lifespan,
16 or 50 rotations around the sun? And we worry if she loves me, we worry what
they’ll think of us. We worry for no good reason.
I’m not a very religious person, but I am spiritual. How can
you deny that? Look at us? I can’t deny my feelings, I can’t deny my joy or
pain or my love for books. But I know they shape me. I know that if I didn’t
have a language to define who I am, I wouldn’t be constrained in these norms.
So why am I so happy?
Because I’m free. I’m elated. I can step back and reflect on
the pathetic and I make a conscious effort to be present. I count seconds and
footsteps. I keep track of numbers and scatter plots. I try to look at me, at
us how the earth does. And it’s beautiful. Undefinable, immeasurable. Life is
my God. Fucking life, man. It feels good to breathe.