Million Years

as reply to forced

“You’re just okay with that? Not being happy all the time?”

“I mean yeah isn’t everyone? It’s just life is. You know it’s full of boring stuff, waiting in line and that’s okay.”

“Exactly, that’s what I am saying, it’s life! It is just life! That’s all we got, so why not just be happy the whole time? Why can’t you be that? There’s drugs there’s, I mean anything, art, sex, all that. Why can’t there just be a constant stream into my fucking brain.”

The therapist was writing small notes so he couldn’t make them out. 

“Mmh” she said. 

“It just doesn’t make sense who decides who gets to suffer. Maybe we just all decide to be happy? Is that bad? I don’t understand why everyone is acting like I’m the crazy one. Everyone should be as upset as me. They should! I mean look at the world out there? Just look at it.”

The therapist wrote more notes, and actively listened. She recommended more exercise and to up the dose on his meds. 

This made him sadder, he made a little promise in his head, even after taking the pills that he wouldn’t let them work on him. Not in a million years. 
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