A moment in which a movie makes me re-consider life.

Monday night, as usual, I watched a film for my English class, and while I admit I was slightly distracted when my friends decided to paw at my lobster headband (which ended up breaking, so sad), I was still enthralled by the film. This week it was 13 Conversations about One Thing. Maybe the plot wasn't the most exciting, and the setting was a tad dull, but I'm a sucker for movies about people and their lives. People have always fascinated me, and the more hard to figure out they seem, the more I want to discover. If you haven't heard of the film, here is the trailer: 

There's quite a few meanings you could take away from the movie, and since it's an English class, we were encouraged to find the meaning as anything but "to find happiness," or "to experience life." So I may not be a genius to volunteer that I found this film to show some average peoples' quest for happiness, but it was strange to think, "wow, these people sure don't see the light in their lives', how depressing," only to realize that it's scarily easy to do the same thing in my life. It can be draining to be un-enthused by everything, yet I've always felt down when I'm also feeling lazy. Why is this? I mean, sure, it can take a lot of effort to be smiley all the time and have rainbows coming out of your ass when there are things that annoy you, people that you want to hit over the head with a frying pan, and the mere fact that you're having chicken for dinner again makes you wish you could curl up in a ball in your room and scream, but maybe, just maybe, the "smiley, life-is-one-big-giant-musical" façade isn't truly happiness.

Emotion, like everything else, can be on a spectrum. I mean, in the course of an hour, I could've experienced all of this, and them some:

That could have something to do with being a teenage girl, but you get my point. It's bothersome when people see a major I chose, a relationship I'm in, or a lovely little MacBook Pro, and ask, "does it make you happy?" Because everything varies. Except for the Mac. That ALWAYS makes me happy, if I choose to ignore the fact that now I'm a completely broke college student. Sure, there are times all this reading and writing makes me want to run screaming around the block (yet I don't, in hopes that at least some people on this campus still believe in my sanity). There were moments in my relationships (friends, and otherwise) where I claim I'll throw a hissy fit if I ever have to see that person again. Two hours later, I'm laughing so hard I'm crying and sharing my joy of yoga/ice cream/shiny things/music video parodies with them. It's not because I'm wishy-washy or unstable, but because we can't just stay at the same emotion 24/7. That would make us robots, which aren't supposed to take over the world for at least another 50 years. 

As a kid, I thought happiness was something you win or achieve, like a shiny gold medal that you can hang up on your wall. Sometimes that feeling of elation is so high, and so intense, I think I can yell out the window, "so long, sadness, see you never!" Then I watch Titanic and start sobbing, "There was totally enough room on that piece of wood for the love of her life!" Nothing like a sinking ship to put a damper on your mood.

Things go wrong in life. Homework gets dumped on you. Families and friends get annoyed/annoying. But despite all the not-so-hot stuff that will always be there, you can still be happy. That doesn't always been being chipper or faking a smile, but I've come to realize that constant happiness isn't something that will just flash its neon lights at me. Contentment gets underrated sometimes, but it's starting to unveil its comfortable qualities. I go to a great school, I have a supportive and amusing family, and my friends can, 99.999999% of the time, put me in a good mood. Plus, I always have chocolate in my fridge.

And, in the words of Bob Marley, "Don't worry, be happy."

 Namaste.