None of the shit you think will make you happy is actually going to work; getting married won’t solve shit; buying a log cabin in the woods and taking only your favourite books won’t trick you into becoming a deeper person; Jesus ain’t gonna help you find yourself. Buying shit will make you happy temporarily, surrounding yourself with happy people will lighten your mood but not your mindset - come back when you can spend a week with yourself, some blank walls and blank pages, when you can remove your superficial distractions & still walk out of there kicking. Come back when you’re not bored any more, and then we’ll call you happy.
We’re just afraid, period. Our fear is free floating. We’re afraid this isn’t the right relationship, or we’re afraid it is. We’re afraid they won’t like us, or we’re afraid they will. We’re afraid of failure or we’re afraid of success. We’re afraid of dying young or growing old. We’re more afraid of life than we are death.