Happiness can be bought for a little more than free. But am i really happy? I think not. There is always an undercurrent of unhappiness. The pain is always there. I try to push it away, hide in the bottom of a bottle absinthe, at the end of a razor blade. Still the pain always comes back. I should be happy. Pain is relative, and after 4 and a half years in the Army, watching friends get fucked up, die, or just slowly go insane, or after 2 and half years in prison watching friends get fucked up, die or just slowly go insane, i should be happy with all the good things in my life. But this pain is different. Pain at the hands of someone I love. Unintentional to be sure, but there nonetheless. If i didn't feel so unbelievably good when i'm with her I probably woulda walked by now, but I can't, i just can't. i guess I'm just Holden Fucking McNeil, most frequent traveler on the road that is not the path of least resistance.
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