For fear of being well, we do not want happiness. Our hearts are in the search, but our minds are leaking as if the happiness were something dangerous and that our lives in its presence would be an offense, unbelievable, but so true. We are looking for anything we are not able to appreciate, a state of well-being that makes us uncomfortable.

I believe in the idea, while I try to argue as much as possible the antithesis, paradoxical to some people, being wrong is being good, strange behavior, as if the complete happiness were bad, being loved by suffering, tragic conclusion, but a real feeling. An evil that protects us, it feeds on the suffering, managing to find almost solace in it, why take the risk of happiness while one disregards its risks and its awards…

No, I’m not crazy, I just know that being wrong helps me to go well, as if I knew I could not be worse and that the best will arrive tomorrow. Tomorrow or even later, I’m in no hurry, I’m wrong and it occupies my mind, reassuring, leaving a continual pain in my heart and in my thoughts a blur.

I do not want happiness, but I still try to move in its direction, but with the compass of misfortune, the path is longer and I’m never sure of my destination. Some say I am well pleased, my unhappiness and that’s the easier way.

The pain as low as it is still a pain and even if I am wrong when I am suffering from this situation which I am the author… It takes me a while to grasp the happiness and not be afraid, taking the time to trust, appreciate the moments and open my heart… Simple things, basic things, not even the maze of my mind and my heart or troubles, just the fact of daring to believe that I can be good without thinking that happiness is not good, feeling guilty because I cannot change people’s lives around me in this chaotic world…

After all, we are the authors of our own catastrophe! ❤