Happily Awaiting Happiness

Two blogs in one day? I must be crazy. If you only have time to read one, don't pick this one. lol

I am really enjoying my most recent book! I'm flying through it. I absolutely love reading about the great discontentment, sadness, and confusion that many women have carried throughout time and what they have done with it. I feel I am one of these women that empathizes an unhealthy amount, over thinks everything, and is perfectly content in all the restlessness, searching and questioning. It inspired me to write this.

She contained a deep sadness, one held by her mother, and her mother's mother, and closely resembled the sadness a great deal of women have held throughout time. She liked this sadness, or at least was content in it. For it was a contemplative, reflective sadness. It moved her to appreciate, and strive for change. Sadness and happiness, whatever these flawed objective terms mean, cannot be separated, they are two sides of the same coin, two halfs of a whole binary opposition. She got overwhelmed with the ugly things in life, but she was the first one to point out the beauty in any situation. She felt, simply felt, the bad and the good, the sadness and the happiness completely, whole-heatedly, and without regret. She would not have herself any other way, could not imagine it rather. Sure it tortured her to her very core, and she was envious of the other world, the more superficial, free from thought world. The world where no thoughts existed on consequences, and bigger meaning... but she knew she could never be that, not now. It made her happy...to be sad. She liked over-thinking, she liked being different, she liked striving for change and searching for truth even when others discouraged it and told her just to worry about herself. It was a lonely life, especially on the inside, but she would rather be real and alone then fake and have a world of friends. She would rather be confused then not question, and she would rather feel sad, then be blind to hardship and suffering. Only when you have felt sad, truly deeply sad, can you understand what it means to be happy, and understand why we should all contribute and strive for change.


Writing this blog reminded me of a silly little poem I wrote in the ninth grade. So I will include it, silly, kinda dumb, and unchanged from the original.

Happily awaiting Happiness
She sits there perfectly content
Had some advice didn’t know what it meant
Looking at the beauty nothing is wrong
She hums a happy little song
What is she waiting for?
She’s smiling such a pretty smile
Doesn’t look at a watch but she’s been there awhile

She waits patiently with her smile
Whatever she’s waiting for must be worthwhile
What is she waiting for
She looks to the sun?
She’ll be burned in the long run
But she doesn’t care
She is so much more then rare
What is she waiting for?

There are so many places she could be
But she has no intention to flea
whatever she is waiting for?
She’s waiting for more
What are you missing
What aren’t you missing
What are you waiting for?

I watch her so confused
Don’t know if she needs rescued
You seem so pleased
Why are you so at ease
What are you waiting for?
You look so happy
You look so glad
Your forever waiting is to bad
What are waiting for?
You seem so happy
----------yet----------
You’re waiting for your happiness
I never would’ve guess
You’re happily awaiting happiness
What a mess
To happily await happiness
You’re simply complicated