Today, while lying face down on the carpet, I noticed my cat nearby. I wondered if she was happy.
As a house cat she can never go outside to hunt. Does being deprived of the main function of her life make her unhappy? As a supposedly non-sentient life form, does she even experience happiness? Does she even care?
Should I be unhappy because I am deprived of the main function of my life? Does it matter that I am sentient? Perhaps too sentient?
I’ve spent the last two decades of my life in serious internal turmoil because I am unable to achieve happiness. Longing for it while wallowing in irreparable misery has made my life unbearable. Fighting it only makes it worse. Attempting to change things for the better always results in remorse and a return to misery.
Why can’t I be more like the cat? Why can’t I just be and let be. What keeps making me desire the simple things in life that are forbidden to me? Is it really necessary to be happy?