I've been forgetting to pursue happiness;
I suppose I could, if I remembered to.
People seem to be used to doing so.
Or. Do they? People seem to be used to pursuing.

Happiness seems to be something that eludes more,
the more pursued such becomes.
You can chase the ideal in your mind endlessly,
and there shall keep appearing more to be chased.

I am learning to pursue calm,
to borrow the phrase.
Really, a peacable calm abhors pursuit.
I am learning to embody calm.

---

I've been learning that I can pursue happiness,
according to some age-old decree.
How so am I to decide if such a decree
any longer carries meaning?

I am forgetting how to pursue.
There seem to be so many barriers,
from my mind to my surroundings,
to the physical conditions that keep me in place.

I forget that I pursue so much that makes me unhappy.
How so, do I come to hone in on such despair?
How so do I choose again the hollow absences?
How lonely should I become before I ask for you?

Once asked, I suppose you'll be preoccupied.
I suppose you're so used to my ignorant negligence,
that you'll pass up on this chance,
as so many chances passed us by already.

---

How do I pass on such happiness?

You came to be by my side, again in a recurring loop.
I in a cycle of denial, looked beyond, or ahead,
or failed to see through my pain,
and paused as the chances passed.

I persuaded my fears they had grounding;
I engaged those fears and raised them into real scenes.
I embraced my lonely absences. I exercised dismissal.

---

How come I choose such?
The passed moments seem to deny that choice had a say,
so hurried in a chemical rush as I had been.
So submerged in a pheromonal haze.

I've been forgetting to smile.
Perhaps I missed my chance to learn,
and as I see my expressions on camera
I am surprised by my grim demeanor.

How did I become so dim, hopeless and cynical?
How am I failing to engage in cheer?
So much do I shrink, so much do I hide,
and so much do I amplify the horrors inside.

Yes, the paranoias began as a response to the absences.
They began before our disagreements,
and you had a proper reason to condemn them,
although I heard your condemnation as applicable to me.

Had I recognized the paranoia, the paralysis,
I'd brush aside your condemnation and say,
"yes, so dumb of me." "yes, of course I'm broken."
Condemn my failings, I can dissociate from those.

Only I failed to recognize, and I held my paranoias close.
Your condemnation became the reason,
or the proof, or the underlying maligned logic,
that caused bubbling fear to splash forth as anger, again.

---

I should be glad that few others seem to experience all this,
these emotions could easily break many.
These feelings changed how I see, and speak, and hear,
and compose my body and mind, and connect to anyone.

I've been forgetting to pursue you; you seemed happy enough,
and how could I do so much as to ask for happiness,
if this should require you to piece through your share,
and reduce your measure for my meager sake?