#6 Happy People

I got angry so many times today and the last day that now I don't know anymore if my anger is intentionally created or real. The Monster woke up and it's strong and hungry and eats up everything that it finds. It eats up hope and leaves hopelessness instead, it eats up smile and leaves tears instead, it eats up conversations and leaves fights instead, it eats up music and leaves noise instead, it eats up all my good and positive thoughts and leaves doubts and fears and hate and pain and self-abandonment instead.

Art by Justell Vonk

People use to tell that cliche that happiness is a choice, it's your decision to be happy. I almost hate them as much as I hate people who tell that being attracted to someone is a choice and gay people choose to be gay. That's a bullshit. No one on this fucking planet chooses to be lonely and abandoned and hated and despised and tortured. They fight against who they are and maybe, just maybe once in life they will stop fighting against themselves and accept that they are not accepted and they choose and collect people around them who understand and support them. But until that they have to suffer and no one chooses to suffer. This is a fucking bullshit.

I'd really like these people who tell happiness is a decision to put in my place for a day, shut the door upon them leave them there for 5-6 hours alone and I'd also put a glass of  whiskey, some marijuana and a knife on the table and I'd tell them to be happy, I'll be back in a few hours you only have to be happy 'til I come back.

I'd leave them like this and when I'd go back I'd see bodies lying on the floor covered with their own vomit and blood and piss. They would wake up and ask me to change back please, it's too much, please change it back, I don't want to be you any more this is fucking madness I can't stand, too much, too much shit, too much. They would be drunk and their arms would be full of cuts and dry and fresh blood and they would shout and cry and faint. I'd stand there and tell them it's okay, it's okay, you're okay you just have to be happy, you just have to decide to be happy. They would tell me I can't bear, too much feelings, too much thoughts, too fast and too intense, I will explode, my head will explode my soul will blast out of my body I'm dying I'm dying, my heart, my heart, I beg you, fuck you, please I beg you. 

I'd have a plastic smile and bright pastel coloured clothes and well-made hair and perfectly well-groomed appearance and I'd smell like expensive perfume and they would wear dark and torn clothes and would look like ghosts and smell like shit and vomit and alcohol and blood and death.

I think about it for long moments and I smile and I feel ashamed of smiling. I feel sorry for them and I'm happy they're not in my place and hope they can stay and live in their illusion that happiness is a decision and they decided well. Happy people. I just wish them to stay happy.

The Monster has eaten these thoughts and now it's calm and sleepy and goes back to it's dark cave. I'm pleasant that it's over. I feel it went away and it won't come back 'til tomorrow. I've fed it with enough pain for today. I've also fed my stomach to kill the emptiness inside me. I've killed it all now I'm fully filled and my stomach hurts because of overeating but it doesn't matter I feel good, the emptiness is filled and the Monster is fed. Everyone's okay. Everything's okay. Happy people and happy monsters.