Sunday, April 15, 2007

Happy and Comfy?

People almost always know how to solve their problems. But sometimes, the solution is too good for comfort, hence they ignore it and keep on trying inferior solutions which may only solve the problem partially, not solve it at all, or even make it worse. This is a pretty awful mindset, but it exists.

Everybody is a fan of comfort and it is probably one of the harder things in life to give up, because it takes so fucking long and too fucking hard to get it. ‘Comfort’ is subjective---a comfortable relationship for me involves me being able to fart in front of the guy like there’s no tomorrow, or pick my nose, or drool sticky icky-smelling saliva, or talk about the questions of the universe over a bunch of fries and floats. If I can do that with you, then I will find it very hard to leave you. That’s comfort for me. For you it may be doing your Fries-in-Nose demo in front of the girlfriend and not feel self-conscious at all. Depends. And I don’t say that only because it’s a safe answer.

When the comfort is lost, then there is a problem. The human brain goes: oh noes there’s a problem and my comfort zone is violated! What do I do what do I do what do I do! Oh I know! I won’t do anything or just do this thing which I am sure will not make me lose more comfort zone ground. Nevermind if another better solution exists---I can’t. Too hard. But thing is, something that makes you comfortable does not necessarily make you happy, and vice versa. And this is where the concept of strength comes in.

Giving up comfort requires strength. But strength allows you to pursue happiness. Like I’ve mentioned above, happiness and comfort aren’t synonymous. If given a choice, I would rather be happy and strong than comfortable and weak, because I’m still stupid like that.

I guess what I’m trying to say is: reorganize your priorities. Think about what makes you comfy as opposed to what makes you happy. Then junk that bitch of a girlfriend and move on with your life. If not, stop griping and hold your tongue until a random seizure twists your body into a horrible position and you die of choking on your saliva. Something like that.


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