I have a friend.
He doesn’t celebrate birthday. He doesn’t celebrate other annual events. He says he is bored with those unimportant repetitive celebrations. Why do people celebrate the day he or she born? Or the first of January? It doesn’t make sense, he says. He is bored with unsurprising gifts and congratulations. It is just a banal culture. People just waste their time to prepare one big liquor party while they could actually drink every time everyday with everyone.
He refuses to fall in love. He never spends some times to deal with a girl, to make a commitment or to tie a knot. It is too risky, he says. Love just a dramatized version of human (or animal) instinct to stay alive, to sustain its race. Nothing else. Others say that he has a traumatic, bitter experience in love. Then, he chooses not to give his heart, not again. He keeps it for his own.
He fears happiness. It is just a temporal feeling that suddenly will blow away like a sunny day. Or rainy day. Why do people look for happines while they know they will lose it in a short time? What is happiness? What is the measurement of it? Happiness is imaginary, if not delusional. Little does he know about it, since he never look after it. He is afraid of it.
My humble friend never realizes how colorful the world is. I have tried to convince him that everyone deserves to be happy, including him. Sadly, I always fail. I never have a strong argument, a good reason to level his stance. I wish I have it.