Today while I was strolling through a parking lot, I kept asking myself what I really wanted in life.
And do you know what the answer was? The answer was that I wanted two things. First, I want love. Then I want happiness. I always have.
After all, what is happiness? Love, they tell me. But love doesn't bring and never has brought happiness. On the contrary, it's a constant state of anxiety, a battlefield; it's sleepless nights, asking ourselves all the time if we're doing the right thing. Real love seems to be composed of ecstasy and agony.
Will I hence never have the only 2 things I desire in life because of the conundrum of their coexistence?
And as someone told me yesterday, rare are the people who actually love.

