It’s kinda funny how, even when you believe you’re happy, there are always these little fleeting moments where you just catch yourself unsatisfied with where you are. You start thinking that you’ve wasted this life, that you’re not worth much, that you just can’t do much of anything right.
You essentially revert to a former self; a self everyone seems to be at some point or another. A self that once consumed your entire being, crippled you, kept you from growing, kept you from becoming who you wanted or even destined to be.
But it’s even funnier how the number of times these moments and feelings reappear are fewer as the years go by. It’s even funnier how laughably sophomoric they are. It’s funnier how they’re so easy to dismiss, especially when all you need to quell them is a couple of puffs from a hookah vaporizer, some Dark Side of the Moon, and knowing that there’s one special person out there who loves you.