What Makes You Happy?

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What Makes You Happy

 

I haven’t written in a long time, part of me felt like it was maybe because I’ve been doing better. I haven’t been feeling as depressed. My life had seemingly come together, even if just the slightest. I always told myself that when hockey ended, I was going to become an author, a literary wizard; I was going to write every day now that I had a bit more time. Well, hockey’s been over for about six weeks, and I am just starting to write at 10:56PM Easter Sunday.

Sure, I’ve been busy with things in the meantime, but if anyone knows me, busy, is not an excuse. If you want something bad enough, you’ll find the means to do it. Busy doesn’t exist in my world. It’s not because I don’t ever do anything, in fact, that’s probably quite the opposite. I probably have more going on than most folk. Actually, I could almost guarantee that. I just don’t feel the need to let everyone know how I preoccupied I am. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. It makes me sick when people say they are too busy.

Why? I remember years ago, my sister tried to chat with me through Facebook, through simple Internet chat… and, I recall looking at the messages, the message read something along the lines of hey, call me when you got some time, want to know how college is going. I looked at it, thought, meh; I’ll call her later… I am busy. I never called her. And, I don’t know if I ever talked to her again. She committed suicide a couple of months after, and I’ve never been too busy since.   So when people tell me, they are too busy. It doesn’t sit well. At all.

So, to say that I haven’t been writing, because I have been doing well, or because I have been doing poorly… I don’t even know the answer. Sometimes life has a tendency to just happen, and just leave me trapped in the motions that I just can’t comprehend the appropriate emotions, and feelings.

I know that writing provides me with the single most joyous experiences of my life. So, you would think it’s easier to do so. But… for some reason, it’s been getting more difficult, and for the first time, I feel like my writing is actually good. In the past, all I did was write about how I felt. That’s it. There was no scientific method to it; there was no English specialty behind it. Simply, just how I felt. I have such a difficult time re-reading my pieces, for a variety of reasons… mainly because I feel such a huge disconnect with the person who wrote that very piece, but also because… I think it’s shit. I looked earlier, and I have posted 47 entries to GAB. This being 48. I can honestly say that 1 was of quality, Your Move Chief. So, as much gratification as writing brings me… I don’t know if it’s from the actual writing, or the feedback. As pathetic as this may be, I seek so much approval, and accreditation, from… whomever, predominantly from my mom, and from my fiancé…. It’s pathetic, if I don’t hear anything within a day or so, I am texting those two asking what they thought… It drives me crazy that I do this. But… I do. And, I can probably recap every single compliment, or piece of positive feedback I have received from my blog. There is truly nothing, and I mean NOTHING more gratifying than when I hear about people who have read my blog, and find comfort from reading. Whether, I know them or not. I spend so much time wanting to write, then I spend such little time actually writing, and I conclude with spending even more time looking for approval on my writing. From, my family… my fiancé… my best friends… my friends… strangers… When, I receive this, it’s pure happiness. Joy. Elation. You know that feeling where you just can’t wipe that smile off your face. This is the only time I’ll feel it. So you’d think I’d write more, with this being the case. But, truth is… I think I have become a bit scared. My unrelenting life standards have once again trapped me with failure. Where, I need simple accolades. However, that’s slowed down significantly. I don’t know if it’s because my writing has gotten stale, or the content has. Or maybe, I am just without the random viewers from Europe. Or, perhaps, the people who have already graciously patted my back don’t feel like they need to tell me good job every single fucking time. Though they shouldn’t. However, I feel like, unless I get that… I am failing. I want to know what every single person thinks of my writing, even if they think it’s complete crap. I just want to know… because; I think it is too, I can’t even find myself appreciative, and satisfied with my own work.

So, in getting to the point of this entry… the great folks at Mind Your Mind proposed the question, what makes you happy? I thought about it for a long, long time. There are so many things that I enjoy, so many. But, to label them as something that makes me completely happy would likely be false. I think at any point, doing makes me happy. Regardless, of what it is that I am doing. I think sometimes you can find temporary joy in that, and I do. But, I tried to really think of something that makes me truly happy. True joy. I almost couldn’t think of anything, till I thought about writing, then I thought about all of the positive feedback I have received over the two years, and the people I have been able to help, if even just to help them temporarily. This has brought me pure joy, and continues to do so. It’s the only thing that allows me to feel self-pride, and self worth. Regardless, of the success I have at work, or in coaching sports, or my daily life even. I always seem to be stuck wanting more, and eventually get a place where good just isn’t good enough. But, with writing, that’s different. Even, if I receive two notes about my latest post, to me it was a success, and it provides that feeling. That feeling where I can’t stop but smiling, even if it’s a random stranger at an arena that says, “hey, you’re the guy that writes that mental health blog” … Yes, I guess so. These are the things that keep me ticking, and continue to remind me just what it is to feel joy, and to feel good.

You just hope that somehow you can find a way to enjoy, accept and appreciate your own bravery and work. Sometimes there is just far too much pressure on writing purely for the audience, and hoping to help them find joy, and hope. I need to find my own first.

Rest easy, and rest happily Max. I hope you can still find some time to read my blog, and I hope that you’ve found true joy.   I know you and Jen are hanging out as we speak. Listening to music, watching over us, and laughing at us.

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Summer Road Trip Chapter III – Los Angeles & Area

Travel

The Route

Calgary – Kennewick

Kennewick – Redding

Redding – San Francisco

San Francisco – Anaheim

Anaheim – Laguna Beach – Manhattan Beach – El Segundo – Los Angeles

The Stay: 2 Nights

The Nest: Doubetree By Hilton LAX 

The Miles: Anaheim – El Segundo 120 Kilometres

Total Miles: 2,850 Kilometres (Approx) 

After a fantastic, eventful trip to Anaheim, we were due to set sail for LA. However, there was a destination we missed the opportunity to spend some time in, and it was killing us. So, I tried my best to somehow make it work. We weren’t able to check into our hotel in El Segundo, until 3:00pm, so we had some time to kill. Perfect. We can backtrack a few miles, stop in Laguna Beach for lunch, and then drive all along the coast to get to El Segundo. Much further, and longer, but… It was much worth it.

Laguna Beach / Manhattan Beach 

Day 1

Day 1 of our journey to LA, and as most of our Day 1s… Drive.   As mentioned, we backtracked a bit so we could make a special stop in Laguna.  I had to go to Laguna Beach, it wasn’t an option, had I never spent parts of high school dedicated to the MTV series, I probably wouldn’t have cared to go there.   So we headed in the opposite direction of LA, and drove to Laguna!  It was…. not at all what I was expecting, and I will thank MTV for that one. It had a small town vibe to it, reminded me a lot of Sydney/Victoria BC area. Everywhere you turned there was an art gallery of a different kind, or an art school, or something art related. I totally did not expect this, and the people were very friendly. I was for some reason expecting this ultra-“classy”, hoity-toity small city of super vehicles, wicked modern buildings, plastic barbies and high heels. While some of this was true, mostly because I was looking for it… It’s not at all what I thought it be after watching five seasons of Laguna Beach….  Surprise!   Stupid reality TV.  Should have known better.  

We walked up a few streets along the beaches and checked out some of the cool shops, stores, and looked at different places to eat lunch. We came across this place called “Cliffs” that was right off the beach, but situated on a… yes, a cliff looking right over the water.  Such a clever name now!   It was absolutely amazing. Thanks to MTV. I was totally expecting to walk into this place, feel completely awkward in my Canadian summer outfit and order a cold beer for what would probably be about $25. Nope. It was a very, very welcoming place, the service was phenomenal, the view was even better, and the food was priced as same as anywhere else, and the beer was cold.  Both of which were deeelicious.  Oh, and no one judged me, that I know of at least!  Everyone else looked the exact same as us.  I was completely stunned. I didn’t know what to think of this place. MTV………..

After lunch, we headed back to the truck, and walked along the beach. Again, I was almost expecting the beach to just be littered with plastic barbies, perfect bodied men and women, but nope, wasn’t at all. I got in the truck, absolutely mystified and drove towards to El Segundo. Completely stumped.  

Driving through was a little bit more of what I had expected, going through Newport Coast and Del Mar area. It was funny; cause one of the things I was so excited to see in Califrornia was a plethora of cool vehicles and I was mentioning to Amanda how disappointed I had been, because I hadn’t seen any. I’m not totally sure what I was exactly expecting that I don’t see in Calgary. Maybe frequency. I mean, it wasn’t like driving through Edmonton, there were still nice whips all over. Mercedes, BMW, Cadillacs, Range Rover, Porsche… etc, but same thing you’ll see anywhere else. It was about moments later after saying that. Boom. Rarri’ Lamb’ Bentley, Astons and one of my favorites… The Rolls Royce, then we saw McLaren, and a McLaren dealership. This, I had never seen. Wow. Ok, so I didn’t have the best vehicle in Cali anymore, apparently. That rolls may have taken me. Maybe. I’ve seen two RR before, both parked in Cgy. So to see one rolling through, was… cool. Amanda didn’t seem to understand my excitement.  Whatever.  Anyways, did you guys catch my Ricky Roosay lingo there???  Yep.  Lamb. Rarri.  

Anyway, turns out… Maaayyybe Laguna/Newport is pretty fancy, just like they perceive it to be on MTV shows, but not nearly as snooty in my limited experience.  I felt normal in Laguna, and I felt completely out of place in Newport. Out of place… Actually, I felt terrible about myself. Haha. I hated it that 10 block stretch.  

The rest of the drive, I felt like a human being again.  It was a beautiful drive, we went through Huntington Beach, which was getting set up to start the Vans US Surf Open the next day. We then went through Long Beach, which was.. well, moreso like Edmonton. Then, we drove on through the hood. I thought it was pretty interesting, yet kind of sad that not 25 miles south, you have the absolute elite driving around in their rolls, Bentleys, and then you drive a little, and you’re…. well, just about in Compton, and the rest of the hoods. Amanda, of course… Unphased by all of it, was only concerned about stopping for a nail fill. So when we saw the first place that said Juanita’s Nail Bar & Guns, we had to stop. And, I may or may not have had a pedicure, and… ah maybe enjoyed it. Whatever. I didn’t have a choice.

Eventually, we made it El Segundo after passing through Redondo, Hermosa and Manhattan Beach.  All amazing places.  At least driving through them.  

In El Segundo, our hotel was situated within an industrial park, with some pretty interesting massive offices right outside our window, and down the street. The LA Air Force Base, Raytheon, Northrop Grumman, Various airlines… then the toy company Mattell, and then the… the LA Kings! So you have all these military, weaponry, nuclear corporations, then you have a toy corporation, and a hockey team. Kaypppp.

Finally, hours later, Amanda was ready to go.  W had made plans to head back to Manhattan Beach; the home of the LA Kings. So of course we were going there.  If it’s good enough for Anze, good enough for me!  But first… We had to make a pitstop at the Toyota Sports Centre – LA Kings practice facility. It was nothing but three-rink arena with the LA Kings logo plastered everywhere and normal little kids playing. Amanda loved it! I think it was her favorite part of the vacation.  

We headed to MH Beach. Drove around for a few days looking for parking, found it. Finally. Walked around just as long looking at different spots to eat, walked out along the pier, and then finally found a cool pizza restaurant, and settled in there. And, that was the end of our adventurous day through…  wherever it was that we had just gone.  

Los Angeles

Day 2

Promise, I will keep this shorter. We left after Day 2, so this is it!

We were heading to Universal Studios. It was a bit of a hike from our hotel, and Amanda and I were arguing about something that morning. Probably directions, or how long it took her to get ready. Or both. Actually, ya I think it was both. But, this one got so silent; we didn’t talk for about 10-20 miles. Which is really weird… for her especially!  

I thought I’ll guide us there on my own, whatever. Don’t need her help!  …5 miles later, I thought… K, this doesn’t look right. Wasted some data on my phone to check my directions, instead of asking her… who had the maps.  I soon realized… Shit, I’ve gone about 25 blocks completely the wrong way. I was well, let’s say… humbled.  I turned around, pretended nothing happened, admitted defeat.  I am sure Amanda loved every second of it. Finally, we got along closer to Universal, and good thing. I asked Amanda if she was super excited for Universal, and the minions… which I knew the answer too, but as she was still partially pouting, I thought this would be a good test.  Sure enough, her response.  “NO”

Haha. Ok. 2 minutes later we weren’t 10 feet from the entrance, and she was losing it, worse than in Disneyland. Worse than a kid!  Couldn’t hide it anymore behind the pout.  It was hilarious. Of course, we had to head right to Gru’s Café, and have lunch. This place was actually remarkable. Was identical to Gru’s house in the movie. And the food, was unreal. Universal was already better than Disneyland, though I pretended to not be phased by it as I tried to be the cool guy… But, I thought it was probably one of the coolest things too.  You could get a massive baseball stadium sized can of beer, and walk around with it. So we did.   When ordering the Universal tickets, we spent the extra money and got the “Front of Line” pass, which thank God we did, because unlike the fast pass…They actually worked.  

We went to a few different shows, including an Animal Actors show where they had many of the animals in that act in the Universal movies, and they do some skits and a show with these creatures. Cats, Dogs, Owls, Eagles, Hawks, Guinea Pigs, Roosters, and ten other kinds of animals, it was actually amazing. Amanda, again.. I don’t think reality really set in with her about this place yet. We headed to the Universal Studios Tour afterwards, and this was my favorite part. They take you through all the lots where they film shows, movies, everything. All the facades that are standing, show you what was where, and the tour guide shows clips of the scenes filmed where we were.  Then they take you through Jurassic Park stuff, the props, the vehicles.  The fast N furious prop car parking lot.  We went through skull island and there was a bit of a 3D ride there.  It grabbed our trolley car as we entered this dark tunnel, started shaking, and then this humongous 3D screen got going with a T Rex and Gorilla fighting. It was so neat, when the animals would take a beating, you’d get wet from their “blood” or “drool” or whatever. I can’t even explain it.  but, I felt I was in the middle of a gorilla dino fight, and I had never felt that before!  They take you through “Whoville” the Desperate Housewives street, A plane crash scene from War of Worlds. This was remarkable. It’s apparently an actual plane, they bought and then destroyed it. It looks so real. There’s all kinds of debris everywhere, fires going, electrical sparks. Then, you go through the island Jaws was filmed at, it’s really just a small pond. And they show you the actual Jaws shark. Well, actually, this thing just jumped out at our trolley. This huge mechanical shark, then stuff went on fire. Thennnnnn, they take you through this subway station setup, where they re-enact earthquake scenes. So your trolley starts shaking, noise like crazy, then this propane truck slides out of nowhere inches from our car, then another vehicle smashes into that one, stuff starts on fire again, and then from the other side a huge bang goes off, and all the water comes rushing through.  All the while, they show the exact same scene from an episode of Bones.  It was absolutely amazing how they do all of this. I am still marvelling about some of it.  

That was by far my favorite part of Universal, we ended up doing a few rides afterwards, and another show. We did the minion ride, which was actually disappointing, then Amanda called it a day on the rides, and left me to do the rest. So I went on the transformers one, which was awesome. They’re mainly all 3D cart rides, but still cool. Then, I did the Jurassic Park ride.. by myself… twice, and I wasn’t allowed the third time. We left the park, and walked through the Universal Studios CityWalk which was pretty cool. Bunch of different stores, restaurants, bright lights, and live music. Finally we had some sushi, I had been waiting all trip for it, and couldn’t find any that wasn’t $100 Chef Choice. And, with that… We knocked LA off the list, and headed back to the hotel and had chips.  

Final Synopsis

It was cool, I really enjoyed our brief time there. It was unfortunate, we were unable to do a lot of different things just because of time, but the places we did go to were spectacular. Our hotel wasn’t in the best location, so that made things a bit of a challenge. We were going to do Hollywood the night we left our hotel, but the last thing I wanted was to be driving 25 miles from Hollywood to El Segundo at 1:00am, so I just said screw it… I don’t even want to go into Hollywood, I’ll save it.  Universal Studios was awesome. I would recommend it over Disneyland a million times, unless you’re with kids… maybe not? Then I’d recommend neither.

If you’re going…

  1. Visit Laguna, Newport absolutely, I would spend a night there, and another in the Manhattan/Hermosa area.
  2. Go to a Dodgers game
  3. Go to a Kings game
  4. Try and time it around one of the US Surfing Open events, or the Bud Light Beach Volleyball events.  There always seemed to be something going on, minus the night we were there.  Of course.  
  5. Certainly go to Universal Studios, but ensure you buy the Front of Line pass. I think it was $85 extra, but believe me, beyond worth it. 
  6. Eat at unique little restaurants, I was guilty for eating at PF, and CPK in Anaheim, but the rest of the way eat at independent places.
  7. If you’re a weirdo… the TMZ tour?

 Next Time

  1. I would plan for a lot more time. I think you could easily spend weeks just in the LA/Hollywood area, and visit Venice beach. 
  2. I would follow #1 above, and then stay in Hollywood rest of the time.
  3. Would love to go to a game at Dodger Stadium
  4. Having done Universal, and as good as it was. Wouldn’t go again.
  5. So much more

I really look forward to going to the LA area again. One of the beauties about traveling the way we do is we get to see a little bit of everything, the beast can be that we don’t get to see a lot of everything as a result. But, this way, we know the places we will go back too, and what we will do. Next time, we’ll spend a night or two along that coast from Anaheim to LA. Then spend as many nights as we can in Hollywood, and I would just get lost there and do whatever I found. I would maybe do a city tour, that’s all.   But all in all, Of all the places we visited, this is hands down the one I can not wait to return too!

– B

John Galts Speech

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It’s been months since I’ve wrote something in this blog outside of a minor entry several weeks back ripping into the few evil hockey parents.  I think about it every day, but I just can’t bring myself to write anything.  I can’t find it.  This week, I’ve had a few people reach out to me telling me to get back to writing, that it helps them.  One person told me they dreamt about my writing, and asked if I could start again soon.  Another asked me when the next piece was coming.  Another person asked to meet with me about my experiences fighting with my life.  I had another friend tell me I need to start writing again, to save my life, and to help save his.  I have all these amazing people around me that look forward to reading goneawayboys, and that thoroughly seem to enjoy my writing, and are always applauding me for it…  Yet, I have a hard time believing in it myself, and finding that quality and that safety to it.  I just write.  It’s amazing, and humbling to know that some people find great value in reading this blog, and for those of you, I am very sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you through this blog.  I just needed some time to piece myself back together the last little while after nearly losing it.  Thank you, as always for your overwhelming support.

In the past I’ve said that I often will only write when I feel down, amidst a lull, when I need a boost.  On the flip side, I didn’t feel the need to write when things were going well.  That’s what I used to believe, anyways.  I’m coming to the realization that, that is just complete and utter bullshit.  I don’t write because I don’t want to do anything, except keep to my withdrawn self.  I don’t write because I feel like I don’t have the mental wherewithal to put anything of magnitude together. I feel tired. Weak. Exhausted. Scared. Withdrawn. Empty. Lost.  I don’t write because… because I am feeling depressed.

Why? Why am I depressed? Well, I don’t know that answer as much as I would like too.  Simple question, right? … I think I often lack the things that should create, and attribute to personal happiness.  Or maybe I haven’t made the choice to find happiness yet? I don’t know what happiness really means? Or, maybe it’s because my family has a history of mental disorders? Or, it’s just the hamster wheel running dangerously low on serotonin for the last fucking decade or so!  Simple Question… Yes, but complicated answer that I just haven’t quite figured out yet, and I don’t know that I ever will… If it were easy, I’d be able to solve this problem, because trust me when I feel like this, I don’t want too….  But, I feel like I sometimes have no control of it, I can only try to contain.

I’ve made myself believe that I only write when I need a lift, when things are going to shit.  That’s false.  I write when I am feeling better, when I have that drive, that energy, I write when I feel like I can help make a difference in not only myself, but maybe someone else.  I write when I give a shit about someone other than my own self, and their own demons.  I write when I feel like a human being.  I write when I feel.

I can’t write when I can’t seem to find myself outside of the fucking pits, when I don’t care about really anything, or anyone’s feelings other than my own, and I hardly care about my own.  I just succumb to my depression.  It’s like being back into a corner, with someone you know you can fight with a little bit of effort, but you just can’t find it in yourself… you back into the corner, and your stuck.  Out of batteries.  Out of juice. On empty.  It’s almost impossible to get out, or so it seems at times, at the worst of times.  I can’t write and be honest with you, when I am not honest with myself.  When I asked myself if I knew what things attributed to my happiness really were, to be frank… I have no idea what they are.  I drew a blank.   This blog, writing, having people read it, the reaction, the comments, the feedback, hell, the fucking pats on the back.  That’s happiness for me.  That’s it. That truly is it. Making a difference. The one thing.

“Happiness is a state of non-contradictory joy—a joy without penalty or guilt, a joy that does not clash with any of your values and does not work for your own destruction, not the joy of escaping from your mind, but of using your mind’s fullest power, not the joy of faking reality, but of achieving values that are real, not the joy of a drunkard, but of a producer. Happiness is possible only to a rational man, the man who desires nothing but rational goals, seeks nothing but rational values and finds his joy in nothing but rational actions”

 Writing in goneawayboys and posting it publicly is that joy without penalty, the achievement; it’s what happiness really is for me.  The scary part is…  The only thing that truly defines happiness for me right now is…Writing… What…  Really…

When I am feeling at my worst, I become very elusive with others, and especially to myself.  I can’t find, or come to terms with what creates happiness for myself.  I know that it is writing, but when I am feeling empty, and disengaged, I can’t find that… even though I know, if I just get off the couch and turn on some music, read something, I’ll feel inspired and I’ll write something, and in turn, I find happiness.  Even if for a moment.  When you suffer from depression, you learn to take as many moments of happiness as you absolutely can.  Because, not often can I find them.

My best friend wrote to me in an email earlier this week something I have been replaying over and over in my head… Happiness is a Choice… At first I read it, and thought, ok, Well, I cho-cho-choose to be happy! … And it was as if I waited for some animated vortex to appear in the middle of the hallway and throw me a bag with happiness inside… When that didn’t happen, I waited for the genie to pop out of my Booster Juice and graciously grant me 3 wishes.  After waiting several long hours, I realized neither of these things were going to happen, and I went to bed disagreeing with Mother.  Happiness is not a choice.  It’s subjective.  It’s fake.  I woke up, still pondering that same comment, then that led to me questioning myself of what happiness really is, what does it really mean.  In school, in all those life management, and leadership classes we were always asked what success meant, and everyone had a different answer.  But, no one ever asked the question.  What IS happiness?  By definition, it’s the quality, or state of being happy.  Ok. Great. So what does that mean, how I do just be happy.  It sounds so simple. Why can’t I find it? Why can’t we find it all the time? What am I missing here? Happy by definition is the feeling of satisfaction, pleasure and contentment.  Sounds easy, but a feeling? Is a feeling permanent? Or, is this just a temporary relief from all things negative? I want to make the choice to be happy starting now ending when I die.  Not just for the next 20 minutes.  But, what creates this feeling… Money? Family?  Friends? Materialistic things? Fancy cars? Fancy jewelry? Mansion? Strength?  Self-image? It is what your friends have? Is it what Hollywood has? Is it whatever doesn’t kill us? Is it gratitude? Is it a fucking Choice?

Intrigued by this “Happiness is a Choice” … I dug a little bit further into what happiness really means outside of these wildly simplistic and vague definitions the internet has explained to me.  I read the “John Galts Speech” an excerpt from Ayn Rands “Shrugged Atlas” (Ok, I read most of it… It’s 43 pages in size 12 font)  Ayn Rand, Or John Galt the fictional character describes happiness as coming down to the choice of being either a rational man, or an irrational man.

“Happiness is a state of non-contradictory joy—a joy without penalty or guilt, a joy that does not clash with any of your values and does not work for your own destruction, not the joy of escaping from your mind, but of using your mind’s fullest power… Happiness is possible only to a rational man, the man who desires nothing but rational goals, seeks nothing but rational values and finds his joy in nothing but rational actions”

“The emotional state of all those irrationalists cannot be properly designated as happiness or even as pleasure: it is merely a moment’s relief from their chronic state of terror… But neither life nor happiness can be achieved by the pursuit of irrational whims. Just as man is free to attempt to survive in any random manner, but will perish unless he lives as his nature requires, so he is free to seek his happiness in any mindless fraud, but the torture of frustration is all he will find, unless he seeks the happiness proper to man. The purpose of morality is to teach you, not to suffer and die, but to enjoy yourself and live.”

I often find myself looking for a time machine; I want to fast-forward my life 10 years. I said the same thing when I was 14, and I’ll bet I’ll say the same damn thing when I’m 34, and 44.  I have a very hard time finding my own acceptance, and contentment. Galts Speech depicts happiness perfectly for me, it’s not about materials, and it’s not about money.  I’m frequently thinking if I just had more money, if I just had more materials, more muscles and supermodel physiques, I could finally be happy.  I’ve convinced myself I need to be wildly successful to have my family members be proud of me, for me to accept myself, and to otherwise simply avoid being a failure.  If I could accomplish this… I would achieve my personal expectations, but these expectations are completely irrational and I know that… But, I make the choice to believe they are rational because well, it happened to that guy. You shouldn’t need cars, a big house, and fame or widespread success to achieve happiness.  It doesn’t help the people that have all those things either; they always want something more, something is always missing, something irrational.  Thus, when you are unable to achieve these irrational goals, and expectations as soon as you believe you should… It’s a temporary relief of terror, and the torture of frustration pursues.   Often times, that is all I can find.  I dwell on myself constantly, beating myself up about why I am not doing better for myself.  I’m 24 years old.  I have pretty well anything you could ever ask for, but always for me it is never enough.  It’s a trap.  I always want more.  I got a good job, I want a better one now.  I have a nice truck. I want a nicer car now. My family says they are proud of me. But, I can never believe them because I am not proud of myself.  I’ll never know if Jen is proud of me. I’ll never ever know that. Ever. Yet, I feel like I need to know that to be happy.  I’ll never know.   It’s unrealistic, It’s irrational. It’s mindless fraud and torture.  This is why I fight find consistent happiness.  I struggle to create rational goals for myself, goals that are attainable that result in joy, joy without penalty or guilt.   Writing in goneawayboys is often the one rational goal that I have for myself that I am able to achieve multiple times.  I am able to use my mind to the fullest of power, not escape from my mind for temporary relief.

This is happiness.  In order to find constant happiness for myself, I need to become more honest and rational to my self.  Going back to the very beginning of this post where I used to tell myself I’d only write when I felt like shit.  No.  I don’t write when I feel like shit because I can’t.  Otherwise, I’ll continue to be an irrational man, and be tortured by frustration, and destruction.

Mom was right; Happiness is a choice.  

“Happiness is possible only to a rational man, the man who desires nothing but rational goals, seeks nothing but rational values and finds his joy in nothing but rational actions”