We Humans are Societal Beings & That’s Why Happiness is Cocaine

We strive to make others believe, what we believe. Make others hope, for what we hope. Make others yearn, for what we yearn. We wish for all others to be as ourselves.

We humans are societal beings. Our inability to remain in solitude and face our individual selves is an exemplar to the perception of our own existential sterility. There is only so much of ourselves that we can withstand in so far as not to lose the faint hope of a rising unseen self to be built in the passing time. We build ourselves each day and break to dawn a new after the sagging night. It is what truly marks us human, unlike the others who suffer the torture of a pre-destined being. But human beings, unlike all other creatures who harbor their givens, succumb to endorse the eventual flaws that lie in our most celestial conventions.

Rather than perpetuating the unyielding cycle of self-imagination we sought to maintain a set image from among the infinite, hoping foolishly to retain the euphoria we attain from that set image of our- selves.We further hope to magnify its appeal by transcending it beyond from oneself to the entire world of others. We desire to make not endless imaginative selves, but all others as a mirror of the one self we think we most sought to gain from. We have a constant necessity to add to our being and propel a new being, in order to maintain the infinite cycle that sustains our being.We in the hope of constant euphoria break the wheel that has churned since the beginning of our time to maintain this solitary and most tangible desire. We kill ourselves to attain what we already had and now lost. Never hope for others to be as you because there is no one you can’t withstand more than yourself. We, like time, are not meant to stop and ponder.

Too long have humans neglected to admit that this sole guidance to our existence, of which we as individuals are proud of, called “reason” is merely the reaction of a junky who is stuck in eternal servitude to the euphoria of a fix we call “happiness.” For all the corners of the universe, where we tore up the carpet and snuck beneath a look, it has been nothing but the advocation that there might be some fix for happiness hiding within. The most pure basic deduction that a human makes is not based on the presence of God, probability of authentic science or some hyper-complex relation with oneself. It is the simple knowing of whether a thing/entity/object/ conscious will be something that would directly/in-directly/presently/in the future makes us happy.

Science, art, community or theories of afterlife are all based on this pure knowing of what we humans need or want. Without the quotient of happiness, there is no reason. Without happiness there is no answer to anything. With it, at least we fool ourselves that we have one, even though one is not needed. Happiness is a deceptive feeling. It is never constant, always asking for more. It’s greedy in its demands, selective in occurrences, never lasting and always leaves a hard colonizing rage behind for something more. The moment you have it, you don’t want to let go. It’s a dictator that is both a prophet and a capitalist. More is never more. It makes even the most pointless existences and matches up to the tremendous expansions of human dualities – our minds, our actions and our rate of success. You can never know if you truly need it because by the time you realize there is something such, it has already taken over you. You can’t locate its birth or judge it objectively from within your experiences. It’s just like everything else – God, materials, meaning, etc. Happy is what I am told we are meant to be, why? Isn’t there something else? What about content? Content is to be worked for, happiness is just there. Happiness has always been there.

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