Merely, unfortunately, existing.A Story by CallieThe escape of inadequacy in the pursuit of seemingly unattainable happiness.I have this bubbling fury inside me for no reason except but for it to exist as a ferocious reminder of all my greatness and all of my inadequacy. It stabs in the cavity in the middle of my chest, between my breasts, and it stabs with anger and a flaming ferocity. I want to punch something, to be angry at someone or something" but I can’t. No one has done me wrong, not even myself. So why does this feeling linger, this self-destructive, mind-consuming, insatiable emotion of hate? I feel disconnected, alone, isolated, but more than all of that" impatient. Trying to lose myself in music, film and literature doesn’t work, I only reflect on the flaws of my life, the holes in which I let beauty slip through; the missed opportunities, the dismissals of possible happiness. I snub happiness, I snub it consistently and constantly in order to achieve a heightened sense of being. Is this part of finding it, feeling like nothing will ever be good let alone fine? Should I settle for what I consider as lower in order to ease the strains of my mind and my soul? Or should I wither through the suffering to come out of the unknown and hopefully one day find the happiness I’ve been trying to find all of my life. Because that’s what I’ve been trying to find, happiness. I have glimpses of it, tastes and visions of it; but never an ecstatic momentous acknowledgement of it. I’m on the pursuit of happiness and so far, all I have to show for it is a perpetual suffering and numbing anger.
© 2012 CallieFeatured Review
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3 Reviews Added on October 16, 2012 Last Updated on October 16, 2012 |

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