I got eight hours of sleep. I played video games. I played guitar. I got to read a great book. And although I worked till one in the morning in a retail gig, it was still pretty damn good.
What does it take to be happy? Why am I so happy?
Well, the answer is simple. Although difficult to explain. The answer is that I have the capacity for happiness. No matter what happens to me my capacity for happiness is so abundant, that I'm probably the happiest person out of all my friends, coworkers, and casual acquaintances. I'm actually almost like a saint. A philosopher. A rock and roll guitar player that dabbles in jazz. Perhaps in another life I would've joined the priesthood and spread the Gospel of Christ.
What's their problem, you ask? Well, they simply lack the capacity for happiness. One guy is upset because he's not doing the career path he wants in life. One is upset because he's depressed. One is upset because he thinks he can only do one job in his entire life. Coworkers are upset because they think the hum drum life of retail will never improve.
So what do they do? They find solace in escapism. We all do, at least to a certain degree. Especially during COVID. So they go out on vacations and live like a bourgeois for a while. They buy fancy dinners. They take lots of drugs and drink lots of alcohol. They drive their cars fast. They become connoisseurs of consumerism and continuously need to buy more and more things. They fuck all the time. But it doesn't sustain them. They're still not happy. Why?
Simply because they lack the capacity for happiness. Their problem is existential. Meaning that they don't yet know that they lack the capacity for happiness. Some of them will never know. And that's where the true tragedy lies. Thus spoke Orlando Figueroa.
So yeah, today was a good day...
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