Happiness Is A Warm Gun.

It's been a while hasn't it ? Well, apart from unemployment and basic do-nothing shenanigans I've been uninspired. Uninspired to write, uninspired to create, basically just Bland.

Until last night of course when I watched this movie called "Shrink" released in 2009 starring Kevin Spacey. A brilliant and simple movie that tries to bring to the forefront the complexities of everyday life. The movie starts with the quote that reads,

Happiness. Happiness is a word for a feeling. Feelings are rarely understood; in a moment they are quickly forgotten and misremembered.

How do you even know what happiness really feels like ? I'm not saying I'm not happy. I don't know what it is to know if I'm it or not. I wish someone could come up to me and say "Tag! You're It ! You're now happy!" and I would get an overwhelming sense of euphoria and hence would know I'm happy. But that doesn't happen in the real world does it ? I travel along my path of life in a comatose state of mind. Numb. Life's tragedies they say try to make you hard and your goal in life is to not let it. Well I guess I've succeeded since I can't feel anything.

I miss the days when I would wake up to a world full of hope and opportunity. Everything was within my grasp. I was unconquerable. 21 and so cynical they call me. They fail to see that I know all the answers, I'm just waiting to formulate the questions.

In 21 years of my life, I have realized that it's a comfort for seekers to know that no matter how much strange water they may venture, there are always pilots within call. But yet the sufferer must help himself as the pilot usually in the moment of crisis probably has to walk his dog, smoke a spliff or go buy himself a new tux for his wedding. The best help is self help.

Happiness is a warm gun the Beatles claimed and like every other verse, complicated chord or brilliant harmony ever written, this summarizes my post. Happiness is the same gun that you use to create a Pulp Fiction of your brain until you realize that happiness is a choice. An invisible line but extremely tangible. You choose to be happy or you choose to be sad, either way, it's your own doing.