T-minus 22 years and counting...

I don't think it is fair to say that I have never felt happy.  I have been in a state of calm and relaxation before that has lasted longer than most of my shits but to truly say that lead to any sort of happiness could possibly be labeled a lie.  But I do believe in happiness.  I believe it is a place we all strive to be and will one day meet face to face.  I do not believe it will ever be in this time or in this country with these values and prenotions.  I cannot say for sure what anyone else is thinking or even decipher the words as truths that come from people's mouths but I can say with all comfortability that you are all liars.  Not only to the ones around you but to yourselves at most.  I guess with that said though, happiness is never truly acheived in full or at long bursts of time.  It is an island from which we anchor and refuel.  It is a stopping ground in the roadtrip of our lives.  To say one is happy is to deny your humanity.  Maybe I need some rehab, or just need some sleep.  But this is a sick obsession I see in my dreams.  What you got boy, is hard to find, I think about it, all the time...Ke$ha? Really?!  Shit just pops in my head.  But yeah...happiness. Who needs it?  I'd say I'm happy enough without it but there goes that catch-22-thingy again.  The ironic thing about being unhappy is that it puts you into a compulsive state of...well, happiness.  Like this fucking itching!  I know it doesn't help my skin to scratch, it actually worsens the itch, but I can't help it.  It has become the reason I do it.  I truly believe the bumps on my skin are an evolution of my need to scratch it now.  Sick obsession, indeed.

The Closer tonight made me cry balls!  It was so sad.  And so good.  That is my other obsession, feeling miserable.  It makes me feel good to cry and be all dark and depressed.  If I wasn't a manager at a movie theatre my next career plan would be serial killer, pretty sure.  And now I want Peanut Butter Crunch.