No Happy Endings

You know those romance flicks that's bittersweet? As in the story's so romantic but then it doesn't come with a happy ending because the characters have to part ways in the end. That somewhat hollow feeling I felt after the movie's over always sunk deep. Sometimes I carry it with me for weeks or months. Perhaps because deep down, I felt that ending is mine. That no matter how beautiful the love story is, I'll never have a happy ending. Maybe that's how we are now, forced to let go because out paths no longer meet.

(Listening to: Flaws by Vancouver Sleep Clinic, OST Before We Go)

[Coelho's] I Am Not Happy

A comment that is very often heard in interviews is: “ ... and now that you are a happy person ...”, which provokes the immediate reaction: “Did I say I was happy?”

I am not happy, and the quest for happiness as a principal objective is not part of my world. Of course, ever since I can remember, I have done what I felt like doing. That is why I was admitted three times to a psychiatric clinic, spent a few terrifying days in the dungeons of Brazil’s military dictatorship, and just as quickly lost and won friends and girlfriends. I walked down paths that, if I could turn back, I might avoid today, yet something always pushed me forward, and it certainly was not the quest for happiness. What interests me in life is curiosity, challenges, the good fight with its victories and defeats. I bear many a scar, but I also carry with me moments that never would have happened if I had not dared beyond my limits. I confront my fears and moments of loneliness, and I think that a happy person never goes through this.

But that is of the least importance: I am content. And contentedness is not exactly a synonym of happiness, which to me seems like a dull Sunday afternoon without any challenges, just rest that in a couple of hours grows into tedium, the same evening television programs, the prospect of Monday waiting with its routine.