Happy

What is happy?
I’m sad, I’m searching, I find something but am I happy?
Is it a state of being or not being?
If nothing is wrong then am I happy?
Or am I just a sad case whose only happiness is the few fleeting moments that I actually have no worries?
But do I ever have a time when I don’t?
Or do I just have moments of self-induced intoxication when I forget?
And what do I intoxicate myself with?
Alcohol, mental occupation, love?
And on that note what is love?
What happens when I lose balance?
When I lose the love, do I balance the equation?
Do I now drink 50% and think the other  50?
Is that even possible?
Doesn’t  searching for the answer in the bottle eventually reduce the mental capacity?
Inebriation and sobriety?
Where is the difference?
Aren’t we always high on something?
But if you find your equilibrium, then I’m happy for you
Yes, I’m happy

Yes, even in my search for the meaning of happiness I’m happy for you
But can I be happy for the world if I don’t know what happiness is?
When each bliss induced act that makes the world happy lights another log on my pyre
Yes, I’m happy
Where’s the equilibrium, if it’s happiness is an inverse reaction for me
I’m happy for you
And I wonder, could I see what’s happening here without being here?
The deranged mind of a self-induced murderer thinks it’s possible but does it matter?
Will I ever care that it’s not true?
Can I fall asleep on my pyre and watch what you do?
Do you stoke or do you try to use your flooding tears to abate the very flames that hurt me more than My happiness
Yes, I’m happy

And I smile,
Behind the convoluted thoughts and writhing agony of being happy
I’m tired of my own story, I wouldn’t want you to endure listening anyway
Be happy
So behind being heralded as talented, admired by those who could never grasp what makes this system tick, and what makes it hurt to smile, I smile
I say all is well and I’m ok, yet being unable to grasp the things that you say are normal
But making a fuss would not make anyone happy
Be happy
Yes, I am happy

So let’s make sense of all the nonsense
The noise
The dust
And be happy
Within the turmoil
Find a center
A sound
Something to hold on to
Like a slow rhythmic beating of a one toned drum
Hold on to it
Never let go
Be happy
The noise is loud
The pyre is now creaking under the weight of all the burden placed on it
While the sturdy frames are now licked by flames of a distant passion now cold
Boom
Each drumbeat sound, pulls you closer to the perfect silence
Calm in chaos
Boom
Now you hold the rhythm, you hear nothing else
Boom
And it picks up pace
Boom
Now it all makes sense
Boom
Now you feel
Boom
Now you care
Boom
Now nothing matters
Boom
Quiet
Boom
Centered
Boom
Peace
Boom
You’re happy
I’m happy

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