the bearable lightness of being.

I genuinely like where I am in my life right now.
I’m in a good place.
I’ve got focus.
I’ve got passion.
I mean, what else could anyone ask for?

I don’t know; but is it too much to ask for happiness?
Somedays it feels like gaiety is too far from my reach.
but does that translate into melancholy?

Yes, in retrospect I seemed to be a much happier being back then.
or was I?
perhaps I was just being an eccedentesiast.

I’m doing the same shit again, aren’t I?
asking myself stupid questions, and qualifying my own thoughts.

the point I was supposed to make with this post is:
I’m not happy.
my life is mellow.
I still do flounder with my insecurities.

but that’s alright.
I am content.
Like I said, I like where I am in my life right now.
I see a route awaiting my steps.
I’m a work in progress, and that’s totally fine.

happiness is over-rated anyways.

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