Creepypasta Wiki
Advertisement

What is happiness?

It’s a question people ask themselves at least once. Now, this seemingly simple question is a deceivingly complicated one. Although we know what happiness is as a feeling, what makes it complicated is how we get that happiness. People find happiness in different ways; different things give people happiness. Like a little boy getting an ivory, smooth cone of ice cream from an ice cream truck on a warm, sunny day. Or a little girl finding happiness by getting a brand-new doll from her loving parents.

But there are irregular ways people can find happiness. Society looks at these methods with a disapproving frown that they give to the ones that don’t fit in and the ones that aren’t like them. They think that we’re monsters, but they’re the monsters. They’re the ones who lock up people whom they deem “sadistic”, but we’re just trying to find happiness like them. We shouldn’t be put away just because our processes for achieving happiness are “barbaric”. The Constitution says that we have unalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, but they lie.

We should be able to do whatever it takes to pursue happiness. Like a little boy who just found a cat slowly dying on his neighborhood street. He stares and sees the look in the cat’s eyes as it dies a slow and agonizing death. But this look gives the boy happiness; it makes him want to see it again, so he has even more happiness. Sometimes, though, this happiness may take a little bit of work to find. Like a little girl who just got a very new doll. But this doll doesn’t bring happiness to the girl. No, it gives her anger. She hates the doll; she hates that the doll isn’t the one she wanted, and she hates her parents, who didn’t get her the right one. Her anger blows up like a balloon inside of her, and this balloon is about to burst. But this won’t stop her from getting her happiness, it just delays it. She knows what can give her happiness. So, when the dark curtain of night drapes itself over the clouds, she sneaks out of her room and stealthily goes over to the garage. That is where her father’s handgun resides. She picks it up and stares at it, the moonlight reflecting off its gleaming barrel. She smiles. She walks out of the garage and over to her parent’s room. One, two, three, four, and five gunshots are heard. That is how this little girl finds her happiness.

But society frowns upon us when we try to find happiness this way. They put us where they put everyone who is deemed “evil” and “insane”. I’m one of those people that they deem “unfit” for society. They just don’t want us to find our happiness. They’re the monsters. I shouldn’t be the one in this straitjacket, rotting away in this cell, waiting for the touch of death to find me. I didn’t do anything wrong. All I did was find happiness.

Advertisement