This clicheic question has been bugging me ever since I am aware of my own existence. Time and happiness have always been my best friends and my worst enemies and the irony of it is that both of them are impossible to define.
In the last couple of years my life has changed completely and unfortunately it took as many good turns as it did bad ones. I used to think that a happy person is always happy and nothing could trouble the little bubble he or she was living in, but now I know better. The so called happiness you feel sometimes, drags behind it a circle of blackness and despair and throws it at you once in a while, forcing you to do dance a sad, horrible even, hula hoop. Don’t you just love ups and downs? The minute you catch the smile of your soul, at the other end of the rope a fuse is lit and it’s only a matter of time until that flame will burn your smile away. So, do you run? Do you stay and watch the show or do you feel so incredibly brave that you will try to melt the ashes of the rope, making a new, stronger one? Happiness doesn’t exist if your been hasn’t experienced sorrow. The greater the holes of your soul, the greater the feeling of happiness will be when it hits. Sometimes you don’t even get the chance to sniff that feeling, either because your body will just decide to give up, or because depression will kill your spirit and will no longer recognize your true purpose into this world.
What is our purpose? Can we be only a different, more evolved, monster looking, species of ants? Or what if the ants are more evolved than us? Are they happy? Do they measure time? Do they even care? I can almost see the tiny clocks hung on the walls of their subterranean nests and leafy looking computers for them to communicate their thoughts with other ants from different colonies. I am sure that it’s best for me and the population of ants around the world if I stop my babbling about happiness and sorrow here. But just think about it: are you ever truly happy? And if you are with what cost?