I suppose it’s wrong starting a new post and having nothing to talk about.

Maybe that’s what I should talk about though… Nothing. In the sense that there’s nothing where something should be.

You know how people ask stupidly banal questions about “happiness” and their lives are weighed up against an ideal they have no scale for, no real measure against? Now this is where you wise on and deplore my cynicism, and good on you /pats you on the head.

And now while you express outrage at being patronised, consider this. Is it more worthy to seek happiness or contentment? I mean, how ignorant is someone who is happy all the time? Or how about those functioning depressives? Or tortured creatives for that matter? Wouldn’t it be sufficient if we could find circumstance that we could appreciate enough to be content with instead of trying to increase or improve circumstances until we can believe we are happy?

I think this all comes from me thinking on my own lackluster circumstances and how I would love to change them. Some I am not sure I can, others I am lost on how to gain the ability to change them, but some I can and hopefully will. But a lack of contentment may just be my problem. It feels like something is lacking, like a nothing sits somewhere in the middle, and its heavy. Nothing is quite heavy it seems….

But I lend myself to contradictory thinking yet again and suggest to myself that contentment would lead to an end of ambition, it would even be a pseudonym for death in this context… possibly…

Or am I just flat out wrong? Is happiness, whether chemically, emotionally or mechanically induced, the better goal with its fleeting nature just what we need to keep going? Like a drug? A mild and safe one with hopefully minimal self-destructive consequences? Am I just missing out, missing the point, missing a point?

Fuck I really have nothing to say sometimes…