Just elemental beings and bright lights set in dark pockets.
Happy places are not people places,
people stink of lies and untruths and insincerity and are wrapped in their blame blankets.
Happy places are me places.
Places where it is just me and my thoughts and the others.
Places with flying notes and wiggly pasta, places that are strangely familiar.
Often times, I neglect my happy place.
I tweet, and meme and troll and laugh like a crazed hyena and my chest burns.
Burns in my chest because I lie.
I deceive myself, I am not happy.
The loneliest places are in the middle of crowds.
All that murmuring is the ache in your soul multiplied by a thousand decibels.
You think quiet is lonely,
it is not.
Loneliness drives to the brink, causes purgings and browbeatings.
Loneliness is experienced by many, and understood by few.
The individual is scared of loneliness, and so ingests poison to ward it off.
But loneliness isn't juju, dear friend.
You, at your core, should find your happy place.
Stay there.
Enjoy it.
And if anyone else makes you happier, consider it an extension of happy places.
The End.
P.S. I don't know what this is o!
I have absolutely no idea, what it is, but I feel like some of you do, and because I fall into funks sometimes, I understand a little of this.
So I tell you today, be happy.
P.P.S. is this a poem or nah?
Photo by Dids from Pexels
No comments:
Post a Comment