So I stood on the pavement, looking out over the expanse of grass. In the distance was a lake, and I could hear an owl hooting in the distance. There were ripples from the lake, but no birds were in sight. Perhaps fish, then. I wanted to walk over. And yet, the sun was setting and there were shadows. What if a pothole, a burrow, or an insect mound? What if I got injured? I was alone, and no one would have heard me for a while. Then they'd seal up the place and ban people from entering. That strange, forgotten piece of land. A single narrow road circled the entire compound, dipping and rising with the contours. There were two small buildings. One near the entrance, and one right next to the lake--obligatory accessories to the landscape. A patch of trees stood in the middle just beyond the lake-side building, and it was there that the owl seemed to be. Ah but it would be a good location! Bare grassland meant easier spotting of prey, and the distance away from roads meant less stray headlights of an oncoming vehicle. There was a sort of silence, and it was rather charming to discover such a space amidst the bustle of the city. I imagined it was only temporary though. Someday someone would figure out a "use" for the land. But in the meantime, in this one moment, this was mine and mine alone. Well, me and all those bats, that one owl, the fishes (maybe), and the potential creatures lurking beneath the grass.
I suppose the concept of happiness has somewhat tended to elude me. People speak of happiness as if it were something to be "fought for". And yet the same event can evoke different sorts of happiness in different types of people. And so I suppose then happiness is not something tangible that can be "attained". It has to come from within. There is the delirium that comes from a chemical-driven happiness. Alcohol and drugs are known to evoke that sort of pleasure. Yet, I find it difficult to find that sort of enjoyment "happiness" per se. It is fleeting, and ever-so-dependent upon those chemical triggers. Then you talk about friends and how they make you happy. Yet, friends are also fleeting. They have their own paths to walk, and it's precious enough if they slowed down even for a while to spend time with you. There is a bittersweet sort of happiness and pain that mixes together everytime you make friends. That sort of expectation that one day, they are going to walk away from you. That desire then to make the time you have worthwhile. So that perhaps, when they think back to the time spent together, it brings a smile to their face. It's a very different sort of happiness--these two instances that I am describing. And yet they get lumped together into being one and the same category. Some might then ask why it matters that we share the same sort of definitions. But you see, it does matter.
When I say that I consider you a "friend," it can potentially span from Facebook-acquaintances all the way to someone I can wholly and thoroughly trust. I often mean the latter, but what is to stop the other person from assuming the former? That leads to a lot of mis-matched expectations--which really doesn't bode well for the relationship. Ah... I really can't see an end to this post. I shall stop here then.
