Happiness is subjective. Are we entitled to the sweat on our brow? “No!” says the man in Washington. “It belongs to me.” “No!” says the man in Moscow. “It belongs to everyone.” “No!” says the man in The Vatican. “It belongs to God.” Just like the saying it takes one to know one, only you can define your own happiness in this world.
Is the world’s richest man also the world’s happiest man? Is he happy because he is the richest person in the world? Or is he unhappy because everyday, he is fretting, worrying and losing sleep over the day when he might lose it all?
To the Ah Beng and Ah Lians, happiness only comes in the form of driving a Mercedes-Benz and wearing a Rolex. To the high school student in Singapore, happiness means getting straight A’s in the exams. To the lama in Tibet, true happiness exists only when he is detached from materialism and earthly temptations.
How would you feel if you were this cat? Would you be living a life which you would rather not live, drenched in all the kurap and the disease which has made you blind and motionless? Or would you be happy knowing that you have survived this long where others would have given up?
Moral of the story: Try your best to let everyday be a happy one and think positive even if you are in a state of deepshit-fuckedup-depression. Seriously :).
