(found in the padding on the walls)
I hear all these people. All the time, I just hear all these people, all these people who want to be happy. They cry out for it. Happiness. They crave it and nothing more.
I tell them, I say “If all you want is to be happy, the go somewhere and decide it. That is all happiness is. It is the decision to be happy. It is the conscious cessation of desire, what happiness is, and such a cessation is well within the grasp of even the feeblest mind.”
But still they rabble and grouse.
So then I tell them, I say “If all you want is to be happy, then go find a carton of ice cream and eat until you cannot anymore.”
And so they are silent.
Oh, I go to bed infuriated and hungry.
But TO TRY is to be Insane. But to give All That There Is To Give and to give it to every moment, that is to be Insane. Ah, but the wormholes open up in the mind and the soul, and such an attitude will suck the hero dry. Ah, but to die dry on a trek through the desert is certainly desirable when the other options involve swimming through lakes of sticky, manufactured and self-proclaimed Satisfaction. Especially when the desert expedition involves a Search for Truth.
But what? And what and what and what is there to find? What is there to find but disappointment – pure darkness, if not just even slightly less than what there was hoped to find?
For not even Love can BE ETERNAL.
Ah, but still the effort must be UNCEASING. The TRYING, Toiling, torturous EFFORT must never falter. For that is the root of failure. That is the root of disappointment. Life is a search for something that can never be found – PEACE – and Life is a search that must never capitulate, not even to the smile.
Life is effort, and I will stop when I die.
Ah, but if only –