The private thoughts of one among millions.
I don’t know how to be happy.
When things are good, I feel good. For awhile. Then, I get bored with happiness. My over-active imagination begins looking for things to be unhappy about. It’s too hot or too cold. We have too much crap in our house. I want more crap to stuff in our house. I don’t have enough to do. I have too much to do. I want to do something important and worthwhile. Unfortunately, I lack the ambition to actually follow through, and usually end up making things worse. I worry over things that might happen someday. I obsess over what might have been, if I had made different choices, and how terrible it would be to never know this happy life. And then, it makes me all sad and I have a panic attack. The end.
In short, I’m an idiot who cannot learn to be content.