What about love?
Overrated. Biochemically no different than eating large quantities of chocolate. - John Milton (Al Pacino), The Devil's Advocate.
Or, according to recent studies, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder or, in adolescents, hypomania.
Well how about that. Love as a mental illness, as well as a four-letter word. I think we've all known (and likely experienced) relationships that could be classified as pathological. Actually, I think most of us are in ones, regardless of whether we're romantically linked to anyone or not. This entire society is pathological, and keeps encouraging further pathological behaviours. There seems to be a notion out there, and so many of us are prone to this, that we're all responsible for everybody else's happiness. Now just stop and think about that for a minute. Does it seem at all fucked up perhaps? You are responsible for my happiness. You must do everything within your power to ensure that I am happy. Go. Do it. Make me happy! It doesn't matter if you waste all your money, time, energy, emotion, hell your entire fucking life, as long as it makes me happy!
... Seriously? And we just keep falling for it. Employees for bosses, mates for mates, girlfriends for girlfriends, girlfriends for boyfriends, students for teachers, children for parents. Especially children for parents - it's where the whole mess starts. The minute love and happiness and approval becomes conditional on getting a good grade, being straight, winning the race, behaving your bloody self today ... the whole game's lost. Extend that to the expectations of the psychopaths known as children and we may as well give up before we've begun.
Face it. We're never going to be good enough, we're never going to make everybody happy. But we just keep on trying. We go from person to person to person and thing to thing, pinning our hopes on them, thinking that maybe if we make them happy or have that, we'll finally be happy ourselves.
Give it up, kiddies. A promotion isn't going to do it, getting a girlfriend isn't going to do it, having enough money to go on a holiday isn't going to do it, nothing is. And that's the cold hard truth. You are not going to be happy by making everybody else happy, and you're certainly not going to be happy relying on everybody else to do it for you.
So what's the solution?
I'll let you work it out for yourselves.
This announcement brought to you in honour of St. Harlequin's Day.
Or, according to recent studies, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder or, in adolescents, hypomania.
Well how about that. Love as a mental illness, as well as a four-letter word. I think we've all known (and likely experienced) relationships that could be classified as pathological. Actually, I think most of us are in ones, regardless of whether we're romantically linked to anyone or not. This entire society is pathological, and keeps encouraging further pathological behaviours. There seems to be a notion out there, and so many of us are prone to this, that we're all responsible for everybody else's happiness. Now just stop and think about that for a minute. Does it seem at all fucked up perhaps? You are responsible for my happiness. You must do everything within your power to ensure that I am happy. Go. Do it. Make me happy! It doesn't matter if you waste all your money, time, energy, emotion, hell your entire fucking life, as long as it makes me happy!
... Seriously? And we just keep falling for it. Employees for bosses, mates for mates, girlfriends for girlfriends, girlfriends for boyfriends, students for teachers, children for parents. Especially children for parents - it's where the whole mess starts. The minute love and happiness and approval becomes conditional on getting a good grade, being straight, winning the race, behaving your bloody self today ... the whole game's lost. Extend that to the expectations of the psychopaths known as children and we may as well give up before we've begun.
Face it. We're never going to be good enough, we're never going to make everybody happy. But we just keep on trying. We go from person to person to person and thing to thing, pinning our hopes on them, thinking that maybe if we make them happy or have that, we'll finally be happy ourselves.
Give it up, kiddies. A promotion isn't going to do it, getting a girlfriend isn't going to do it, having enough money to go on a holiday isn't going to do it, nothing is. And that's the cold hard truth. You are not going to be happy by making everybody else happy, and you're certainly not going to be happy relying on everybody else to do it for you.
So what's the solution?
I'll let you work it out for yourselves.
This announcement brought to you in honour of St. Harlequin's Day.