Material things make me happy.
When I am falling apart and feeling like ice is forming around my soul, I go on Amazon and look for things I don’t need.
I know, it’s terrible.
I find something I like and get excited.
Deep down a voice in me says, “This won’t make you happy.”
But my sadness clogs up my mind and tells me it will.
It tells me it will keep me occupied, keep me entertained enough to not think about everything else.
Material things make me “happy.”
Let’s define happy.
By happy I mean, distracted.
By happy I mean occupied, filling a void.
Filling my soul with an excitement over something new.
Something I’ll get bored off eventually.
I know it’s not real happiness.
Material things just keep me from falling deeper in the sadness we ourselves welcome with open arms.
Maybe it is true what my mother used to say, “Check on your friends that have everything because deep down they have nothing.”