# Be Happy



## Smith (Jan 25, 2014)

There was a time when I once saw the best in people. In everything. The world so vivid, so alive, full of new and exciting places that seemed so big. All of it beautiful. Even if the beauty was hidden, it was still there, and you were willing to find it. Because you knew that you could. Nobody would stop you. All the while naive. With age though I now see the truth beyond those doors.

I found out monsters are real. We just can’t let them out. Sometimes they eat away at you like they did to me. You spend your entire childhood seeking refuge from the dark, shying away from the unknown, but what we didn’t know is it’s ourselves and what we’re capable of that we should fear. I wasn’t warned. Not a single man or woman really is. You find out once you ruin your life as I have. I was a lycanthrope and my love was the full moon. Despite how stunning it was, ever so beautiful, it brought out the worst in me. I howled at it to push it away. Blamed it for this curse bestowed upon me. I showed her the worst in me, but maybe that’s what happens when you find your true, better half. You have to be the bad half. If the moonlight wasn’t enough, I needed sunlight.

It came at a bad time. A period where I had just opened those doors into an ocean. Roaring waves crashed down, swallowing me in their vice and gripping me in freezing cold. Who knows where the dozens of pounds of weight tied to my ankles came from. All the problems in my life caught up to me at once. The lack of self-confidence. Being a quitter. A liar. I was sinking and drowning in the constant arguing of my parents. Between me and between them. Meanwhile unsure to ask for help from a god that I wasn’t certain existed. “Oh come on, there are plenty of fish in the sea!” That cliche sickens me. Out of the hundreds there was but a few who swam by my side. But I didn’t even deserve their hands anyway. My friends watched me drown until I learned to swim on my own. That's depression. Drowning and descending towards rock bottom while everybody else is swimming around fine, breathing, but won't help.

Somehow, I didn’t want to swim. My heart, broken, sank like the Titanic. It sank on the very first trip, and my heart broke on the very first girl. She always liked that movie now that I think about it. How could I tell her, the only one, that I was a fake? How would I explain to her almost everything she thought she knew about me was an act? Should I? Sure, people have been forgiven for crimes as despicable as murders by the victim’s family. But does the murderer always seek forgiveness? And does the family really forgive? I figured it would be easier to believe it was over. Pretty easy decision for a quitter to make, and I regret it every day I wake. By the time I did apologize, it was too late and I knew it. Might as well have been talking to a wall, but I wouldn’t even deserve company such as that. What is an apology worth anyway, when you can’t own up to your own actions and still put the blame on them behind the scenes? It is worth nothing. I am worth nothing.

I’m going to be 16 and already feel like I need to get drunk or high to feel something. Only being able to escape into other worlds for so long, alcohol and weed were the only things that could make reality stomachable. My problems were washed away with drink, nothing being able to bother me, and I could ride the smoke to soar above them. That’s how addiction starts. You know an easy way to find out if you’re an addict? Ask yourself the same thing I did. “Is this an experience or a painkiller.” And if you have friends who are always there by your side, and I mean literally have your back, be thankful and never let them go. By no means do I seek to speak poorly of my own, but in these matters of mine they’ve never interfered, despite the pleas for help. Perhaps that is because this is my fight, not theirs. Depression is a constant battle throughout the lives of everybody, some stronger than others. But you need to learn to fight it on your own, because there won't always be somebody to help you through. That could be the lesson they're trying to teach me. Be careful about your friends becoming painkillers. You could get hurt all over again if they left too, and then there'll be nobody but yourself left to fight the demons.

There did come a day where much of it made sense to me. Obviously not all was pieced together, but that’s life for you. A forever evolving puzzle. From what I had solved, it was apparent that I’d been digging out of the hole I was born in all this time. My parents aren’t good examples or role models. They divorced. Kind of hard to break the mold when it’s another case of father like son. One parent is the worst half of the other, and vice versa. Hey, thanks for giving birth to a fucking living paradox! I want to do well in school yet I’m naturally lazy and procrastinate. I wanted to fix things between me and her, yet I was the cause for it falling apart to begin with. Constant self-sabotage. I’m my own worst enemy because the people who gave birth to me didn’t even like each other. I'm pre-destined to fail at love. I’m only here because my dad wanted to make my mom happy with a child. He told me that. Hope they’re disappointed.

Writing is what I live for, because I know it’ll always be there. Whether it’s a keyboard and computer screen, a pen and paper, my blood and the floor, it’ll be there. It’s where I can share the thoughts that torment my mind, churning and boiling, more being added day to day. Music, drugs, alcohol, it all helps stop the sickening motion so that I might see clear. Focused and concentrated I can relieve some of the pain by sharing it. Hope that doesn’t put any of you off who are reading this. Not even a psychologist could survive this shit, last a single second within this living hell inside my head, so feel accomplished if you can read this and not want to vomit at how poorly written it was, shake your head at how pointless it is, or make fun of how ridiculous I am.

“You write? Wow that’s really cool, send me a link.”

“Okay.”

Time passes.

“Wow… that’s really dark.”

Fuck yeah it is, but it’s real. I’d rather have one person read this and enjoy it because they can relate to it and appreciate it, than millions see it and laugh. Or write something that doesn’t mean anything at all to me just for the masses to eat it up like candy. When I write I have a goal in mind, a moral, something I have taken away from an experience that I’d like to give to you. That should make you feel special. It does mean that I can be a bit of a broken record at times, that song which repeats the same verses and lines until your ears bleed. I’m not here to always write something fancy and full of unfathomable masterfully crafted descriptions. There’s a time and place for ugly writing that pulls the short straw every damn time. Which is a good thing, because besides, I often hate every thing that I write.

The less you know the better. Your brain can’t process everything anyway. What matters is what you’ve learned from life. Be happy. I don’t think I’m ever going to get that right, but maybe you will.

I don’t know what I’m even writing about at this point. What the hell is this even?

Should probably stop while I'm in last place.


Thanks for reading.

tl;dr be happy.


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## LeeC (Feb 1, 2014)

Whoa, that's a pretty dark crisis of life, bordering on the macabre. Too much so for my taste. BUT, I responded because I think your writing skill is quiet good. With all my reading, I've avoided this ilk, because I have enough demons to deal with, but it's good to see that some can put such thinking into eloquent prose. Can you do equally well in any other genre?


My best,
Lee C


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## Smith (Feb 2, 2014)

LeeC said:


> Whoa, that's a pretty dark crisis of life, bordering on the macabre. Too much so for my taste. BUT, I responded because I think your writing skill is quiet good. With all my reading, I've avoided this ilk, because I have enough demons to deal with, but it's good to see that some can put such thinking into eloquent prose. Can you do equally well in any other genre?
> 
> 
> My best,
> Lee C



I truly appreciate your reply.

Yeah, I've just been going through some hard time lately and writing is one of the good ways I cope. Thanks for reading. I understand it isn't that popular, and I didn't expect it to be anyways. My problems are no more important than anybody else. I only wish to share what I have learned from these experiences. As for other genres, I'm trying to write a fiction book, action and adventure I guess it'd be considered.

Thanks again!


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## escorial (Feb 2, 2014)

keep writing man..get it out there..real life or fiction you carried it well..enjoyed but didn't if you know what I mean..cheers dude.


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## dither (Feb 2, 2014)

Enjoy? I DON'T THINK SO.

YOU TOUCHED,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,I FELT.

dither


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## Smith (Feb 2, 2014)

escorial said:


> keep writing man..get it out there..real life or fiction you carried it well..enjoyed but didn't if you know what I mean..cheers dude.



Thanks my man, and I know what you mean. 



dither said:


> Enjoy? I DON'T THINK SO.
> 
> YOU TOUCHED,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,I FELT.
> 
> dither



Haha, thanks for reading. ^_^


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## dither (Feb 3, 2014)

Smith,
I wasn't knocking it. It's just such a difficult read that's all.


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## Smith (Feb 3, 2014)

dither said:


> Smith,
> I wasn't knocking it. It's just such a difficult read that's all.



Yeah I understand.


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## The Tourist (Feb 3, 2014)

Right now I don't think "writing" is where we can help.  I think you, the person needs some assistance.  I've seen this before.

I've also slid into a black vortex where every face seems like an enemy.  Where every time I turn a switch or spin a bolt something expensive breaks.  Some sleazeball gang-banger saunters through the shopping mall--he's successfully making it--and twenty other mothers within arms reach are clipping coupons.

This upcoming idea might sound deceptively simplistic, but follow me.  *You don't have to be a victim*.  Read that again.  Being a victim is a choice.  Do it often enough and it becomes a life style.

When I say that to people I know, they smirk, and usually add, _"Easy for you to say, predators don't seek you out."_  Fair enough, but I didn't fall out of the womb that way.  You should have seen the geek I was at thirteen...

It's a step at a time.  I started (no kidding) at squeezing a wad of clay repeatedly until every pickle jar lid in the county feared me.  The first time I "threw a leg over" I was actually shaking.  I was so spindly that I had to start lifting weights just using the bar alone...

But points of view are drastically altered by physically doing something.  I used to see a lot of bicycles parked at my doctor's office.  He told me that a psychiatrist in the building got his house-bound bipolar patients riding all over town.  He claimed it worked better than cognitive therapy.

Right now you're a target.  If you'll allow the word picture, I might be standing next to you--but to me, a target is "the center of attention."  LOL.

Do something positive today.  What are you good at?  Building a boat in a bottle?  Polishing your boots?  Ya' got a bicycle?

Right now if you write you'll just re-entrench the gloom.  You need to have some fun.


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## Smith (Feb 3, 2014)

The Tourist said:


> Right now I don't think "writing" is where we can help.  I think you, the person needs some assistance.  I've seen this before.
> 
> I've also slid into a black vortex where every face seems like an enemy.  Where every time I turn a switch or spin a bolt something expensive breaks.  Some sleazeball gang-banger saunters through the shopping mall--he's successfully making it--and twenty other mothers within arms reach are clipping coupons.
> 
> ...



I completely agree, and thanks for your kind words of advice. ^_^

While perhaps what I wrote here gave the notion, I don't feel like a victim. Well, if I am than I'm a victim to myself more than anything. So lately I have been giving 'me' a lot of time and as you said, I'm also doing things that are fun or that I enjoy. Similarly to victimizing yourself, I found that seeing everything as doom and gloom is also a choice. Not to say it should be ignored completely, but I realized I was somewhat downright refusing to let things get better. It all had to do with the way I was approaching the problem and the perspective I was taking on everything.

Writing this did actually help, though. In fact I'd consider it being the step to a new outlook on things. The past is the past, and until a time machine is invented I have learned to appreciate it for what it is. The lessons learned, memories, all of it. Hopefully people will notice my writing change in the weeks to come. 8)

Thanks again Tourist,

-Smith


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## Pandora (Feb 3, 2014)

This is kind of weird I didn't find it dark and even being a Mom I'm not worried about you Smith. Bright as a star you are.
So mature for so young, that's gonna help you much. And boy can you write! I thought there was very good advice inside this piece and a feeling of insight
beyond your life experiences. 

As far as addiction, you have a mind you don't want to wreck. Remember that and don't hurt yourself because you are disappointed in others.
People are incredibly disappointing, all of us. Forgive them and yourself, it feels good.

Happiness can be elusive but one sure fire way to get a fix is to do something nice for someone else. Your writing will do that. 
It will touch a heart and save a life.  It has already. You are quite the talented young man.


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## Smith (Feb 3, 2014)

Pandora said:


> This is kind of weird I didn't find it dark and even being a Mom I'm not worried about you Smith. Bright as a star you are.
> So mature for so young, that's gonna help you much. And boy can you write! I thought there was very good advice inside this piece and a feeling of insight
> beyond your life experiences.
> 
> ...



I am grateful for your kind words and support. As well as for seeing what I wrote here in its more intended light. Because while yes, it isn't exactly very happy, the intention was to share some things I've learned. And hope that others can take away something from my experiences.

Forgiving others is easy. The hardest part for me is forgiving myself, and I still struggle with it from time to time. I will be sure to heed your advice nonetheless. Thank-you.


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## blazeofglory (Feb 4, 2014)

I like your piece for the sheer beauty and gravity of it and you have delved into some of the unsaid and hidden experiences most writers undergo. In life we as writers cannot or do not say everything and something debars, maybe our limited language skills, or the cultural setup we are growing in or the formal or traditional social  mindsets. I enjoy the darker, and more gruesome and macabre parts of life. One of the best books though I hate often for its complications is Ulysses and I hardly comprehend and have never fathomed into hundred pages though I had a number of starts. The book is my ideal and I want to copy his style. The thing I found in the book is he is so bold and left few things unsaid brilliantly and bravely.


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## Smith (Feb 11, 2014)

blazeofglory said:


> I like your piece for the sheer beauty and gravity of it and you have delved into some of the unsaid and hidden experiences most writers undergo. In life we as writers cannot or do not say everything and something debars, maybe our limited language skills, or the cultural setup we are growing in or the formal or traditional social  mindsets. I enjoy the darker, and more gruesome and macabre parts of life. One of the best books though I hate often for its complications is Ulysses and I hardly comprehend and have never fathomed into hundred pages though I had a number of starts. The book is my ideal and I want to copy his style. The thing I found in the book is he is so bold and left few things unsaid brilliantly and bravely.



Sorry for the late reply. I thank you for reading this and glad you appreciate it. With the social setting I'm in, it is difficult to actually express how you feel. If not done privately via text, phone call, or person to person behind closed doors, I seemingly couldn't do it at all without writing. I'll consider taking a look at that book you mentioned, sounds interesting to say the least.


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## amelhope (Feb 12, 2014)

I have read every single word of your writing and  liked it so much :smug: i wish you all the best 
just keep writing and make it your best friend
 bye!


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## Smith (Feb 12, 2014)

amelhope said:


> I have read every single word of your writing and  liked it so much :smug: i wish you all the best
> just keep writing and make it your best friend
> bye!



Thanks friend, right back at you.


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## qwertyportne (Feb 15, 2014)

I've weathered quite a few storms, but instead of telling you to sit at my feet like a young leaf gathered around an old oak tree, I'm going to compliment you for giving us something far different than a pile of diary-dumping crap. You can write, young man. Tweenager angst is real. You are a living, breathing example of this: “How long has it been since you wrote a story where your real love, hate, prejudice and passion slammed the page like a lightning bolt? What are the worst and best things in your life? When are you going to get around to whispering or shouting them?” ~Ray Bradbury


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## Smith (Feb 17, 2014)

qwertyportne said:


> I've weathered quite a few storms, but instead of telling you to sit at my feet like a young leaf gathered around an old oak tree, I'm going to compliment you for giving us something far different than a pile of diary-dumping crap. You can write, young man. Tweenager angst is real. You are a living, breathing example of this: “How long has it been since you wrote a story where your real love, hate, prejudice and passion slammed the page like a lightning bolt? What are the worst and best things in your life? When are you going to get around to whispering or shouting them?” ~Ray Bradbury



Much appreciated. Glad you liked it. Writing for me is part of expressing all the things I can't any other way.


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