The Illusion of Happiness

 It's been a while since I've avoided evening drinking parties.

It's always the same story...

Gatherings where the goal is to drink...

And the scenery outside the car on the way home is always dark and blurry, which I find empty and depressing.

Why did I feel empty on the way home laughing?

Maybe it's because I'm used to the strange habit of looking for meaning, and maybe it's because the gap in my obsession with being happy is too deep.

I also wonder if life is too light if the purpose of life we have to live is happiness.

As I live, I realize that life cannot be happy all the time.

It seems like a huge greed and arrogance to wish to be happy only myself while living in a relationship that I cannot help.

Suddenly, I think that life is like a marathon.

The reason I have to run unconditionally on a set course is because I was born.

A life of running 42.195 km.

I can think that the beautiful scenery, consideration and warmth, and peace that I experience in the process are happiness and that I am doing something very valuable.

Why should I run?

It's because there's no reason not to run.

Moreover, it's because there are people waiting for me at the finish line, my family, and the makgeolli I drink after finishing is the best.

If happiness is the goal of life, then life can betray you.

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