It is 2 AM, and I just woke up with, my thoughts urging me to rush to the computer and write this down. It’s as if therapy has finally knocked its way into my brain.
Here’s the thought. It may seem obvious to you, but I’m a slow learner:
Things are always going to fail if you’re always looking for someone or something else to make you happy.
Sure, the perfect relationship can help you be happy. Sure, getting a few photos of bras in the mail for your birthday will put a smile on your face. But when it comes down to it, you need to depend on yourself for your own happiness. Even finding Beyonce in your bed tomorrow morning is not going to change that, although it will go a long way in helping.
I can’t become dependent on bloggers for my happiness on my birthday, any more than I can put all my money on a spouse or significant other. Too much pressure all around. I’d love for you to say hello to me on my birthday, but I need to take care of myself, not depend on you to give it to me. It’s nice to get attention, but you shouldn’t need it. This is how I’m going to make this birthday as significant as my last birthday. I’m going to use all this therapy I’ve had, and be less neurotic this year.
I know this post has WTF written all over it. Feel free to mock the self-importance. I certainly would do that if YOU wrote it. That’s the one big danger of therapy. You begin to take this crap a little too seriously.
After the bra incident, I came up with a short list of things that made me happy, and asked you to send me photos of them. I’m sure some of you will. But, honestly, why wait? And why feel bad if NO ONE did. I can just as easily get the photos myself and enjoy them the same.
That wasn’t so hard, was it? I didn’t have to wait for my mother, my wife, or random bloggers to give it to me.
I did it myself.
A) I love the new Neil. He’s so insightful.
B) He’s still completely dependent on anyone who smells nice. It’s all Bulls**t.
C) I have no idea what this post is about.
D) Bring back his Penis!