I often find myself telling others that happiness is what you make it. That you define what makes you happy, and that no material shit or any one person can create your happiness.
Yet, I find myself often jealous of the happiness others seem to display. The happiness I know they have. The happiness they have, that I so desparately seek and desire.
Envy, it’s a sin. I shouldn’t be so envious of everyone and what they have. I have alot. I’m very fortunate. Compared to alot of souls in the world, I have the world and everything that one desires. But, it still just feels so empty. So fruitless. So open ended, and loose.
I’m scared. Terribly afraid of never finding that peace that I seek. That serenity. I feel so lost. Don’t know where I’m going, and often times forgetting who I am.
Deathly afraid.
What if…? no time for thinking that way. Just do, and do now. No questions. No doubts. No wonderment. Just be happy. Live, laugh, learn, love, grow!
What is happiness? Define it yourself.