Happiness (poem)

“Life is so much work.”
“Why can’t I be lazy?”
*I’ll explain*
“When will I be happy?”
Ok. Stop.
Imagine doing nothing… Dead yet? Your existence a gamble? …You bet!
How can you think a state of mind is a destination or point in time? Praising lazy? Settle and unwind? You’ll arrest the sublime.
Happiness is work, the satisfaction of strife. The gamble toward completion, the gratification of life. Humans are the pinnacle species on earth, evolution wasn’t easy, we capitalized on mutation, not mirth. Life is hard since the pain of birth, so push with effort: enjoy self-worth.
Don’t misread this verse as a subject of money or career, but, rather, putting forth effort for what, and whom, you find most dear.

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