There is something extremely therapeutic about laying on your belly. As I'm writing this blog entry, half my face is buried in a mass of pillows while i stare blankly at my fingers tapping away at the worn out keyboard of my macbook. I'm not glancing at my screen, just at my fingers. I'm just laying here on my bed on my stomach, with my right foot slightly dangling off the side of my bed, breathing in the freshly washed scent of my pillow. I'm listening to a song that's moving and soothing. The lights are dim. There's something really very therapeutic about this scenario.
None of this makes very much sense and isn't really significant at all in light of things.
But just moments earlier I had a wave of panic overcome me. I stood up, started pacing around my dorm room, not knowing just what to do with myself. Nothing felt right, nothing. I can waste words and phrases to try and describe the exact feeling of what I felt, but I'd rather not. Instead, just recall upon what it feels like to be utterly lost. Then came a blanket of insecurity. So I turned off all the lights in my room.
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| http://caramelchimes.tumblr.com/post/11345975441 |
Now the cause of my panic. The cause. I suppose it was the realization that absolutely nothing good in life stays long enough. It's tantalizing and devastatingly short. I would almost rather these moments never came. Because the crash from the high just isn't proving to be worth it. I repeat, nothing good in this world lasts. It always seems like breaks are too short, feelings never last, money runs out too fast, great dreams are cut off before the best part. Artists are good until they're not. None of it seems fair at all to me. And then thinking back to my own short lived good-ness, my happiness, I just felt overwhelmingly depressed by the sadness of it all.
I felt angry. And cheated. I felt foolish for falling for the sophistry of happiness. It made me angrier to realize that no matter what, I will always succumb to the tricks of happiness. Because the moments we are happy, are indescribably, devastatingly euphoric-- simply too addictive to not seize any opportunity to be happy that comes our way. It's like you want to give happiness a try, no matter how many times it disappoints you--no- scratch that. No matter how many times it kills you. Because as goal oriented folk in a forward moving society, we yearn for that relief. Isn't that the entire basis of our goals? To "achieve" happiness? To live the good life? So to what extent do we continue to allow ourselves to suffer the pain of when the good in our lives pass? Personally, there was a time when I thought I was done. The pain of the sudden absence of the good, the happy in my life was nothing short of hell. So heartbroken that my heart literally felt like it was ripping out of my chest. When breathing was hard and I was choking on muffled tears. A time when I cried myself to sleep everyday. When I couldn't look at myself in the mirror for five seconds without bursting into tears again. That was a time when I honestly thought I was through with giving happiness a chance. Because the god damned good never lasted, and that was the final straw.
But there is just something so amazing about happiness. It's a point of clarity. The desire to be happy once more will always bounce back. It's too tantalizing to ignore.
So we do all that we can to be happy. To make the good in our life stay. But I'm telling you again, it never does. The good will never last.
Cause here I am now, laying on my stomach, neck sore from supporting my chin muffled in a pillow, arms aching from being bent in this awkward position of typing on my bed, my right leg has gone numb from hanging off the bed. The therapeutic goodness of laying on my belly has gone, just another good that's been stripped from me today.
So damn you happiness and all the good you bring, damn you for making me think things are okay and taking that security away from me. I really hate you.
I just really need you, happiness, and for you to stay with me always.
