3/30/2004

 

Nothing Makes Me Happy

 



An Acid Trip By: Amber Kiker


After some deep soul searching and reminiscing upon the many things that have made me happiest in life, my mind continueously wandered to that of my childhood. In my youth it was the simple things that brought me pleasure...turning a stick into an imaginary light saber, getting the latest garbage pale sticker, or playing elevator action at the Circle K.

As I got older things got a little more complicted. Happiness came in the form of unobtainalble wants. In high school a pair of L.A. Gear high tops would have made me ten times happier than the K-mart Reebox specials my mom bought on sale. And seeing as how shoes had become a sign of status among my peers, cornered by desire I fell into a state of unhappiness.

Fortunately, not all was completely lost. There were plenty of other facets in my life that brought satisfaction. I still had my sisters. And boy did they bring me happiness! Cool days in the sun. Lounging around the front yard in our bathing suits underneath the timed spray of my father's green and yellow sprinkler. Talking about boys and kisses and what it will be like when we are grown up and married. And how far away it all seemed. Like a dream in slow motion.

Yet we did grow up. And unlike we had imagined... we also grew apart. Our lazy summer days lost to careers, family, and long distances. One of us lost to this world forever.
Its almost ironic how the things that made us happiest most are the things we can never have again. Stranger still is how we unnaturally attempt bridging the gap of empitness by filling our holes with wants. The "unobtainable shoes" theory makes its wrap around, only now the anty has been upped. Our new guidelines for fullfillment coming again in meaningless status among friends. Success through worldly accompishments. The facade of a richer life built by possesions.

Dis-satisfaction.

Let the Jones's have it, I say. I give myself over to the Lack of Want. I give myself over to Chinese Jump-ropes and bazooka Joe gum. To my polka dot bathing suit and the sheer joy of Baskin Robbins having 31 flavors. To the memory of my sisters. The simple pleasures.

No longer shall I desire, but bask in the simplicity of nothing.

For only through nothing will I achieve happiness.