Open Letter to the Feeling of Happiness.

I sit here in this quiet house, nothing but the sound of the chain from the ceiling fan clinking, contemplating what life has in store for me going forward.

I don’t think that I am happy, but then again have I ever been?

This feeling as though I just move from place to place with little purpose washing over me and never ending loneliness follows like an unwelcome groupie.

Maybe it’s time for me to find a true purpose, to find my way out and be “happy” but then again maybe happiness is withheld for those who deserve it.

Perhaps happiness isn’t a right, maybe it’s earned and what have I done to deserve happiness?

Really what is happiness? What does it entail?

Is happiness find a person of which you can coincide with through life? Is it speeding down Highway 1 in a convertible soaking up the sun and the ocean views? Or is it to complex to fully understand until you experience?

Maybe it’s having little care in the world, just experiencing everything as it comes and constantly exploring for new experiences to have whether they be big or small.

Right now happiness, my vague understanding on the feeling, seems distant. Im here, tied down and unable to explore this world and travel that distance to find happiness.

Instead I’m left with prolonging loneliness underneath the California sun.

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