"Fuck me," you think to yourself when you see it. Off in the distance. You recognize a tree that you know for a fact bears fruit this time of year. You know this because the men in your tribe taught you when you were a child. It's 20,000 B.C. and you haven't eaten a goddamn thing in weeks.

"Fuck me," you think to yourself again, in whatever native tongue you and your tribe spoke before they all got taken out by a rival gang nearby. You were the sole survivor.

"If I can just get to that tree..." Suddenly, a flock of birds emerge out of the grassy plains to your right. That can only mean one thing: Predators. You have no time to think. Your subconscious takes over and you book it full speed ahead. You've calculated the timing and figure you'll just be able to make it to that tree before the pride of lions can catch you. You pray to your animal Gods that they give you the stamina of 10 Cheetahs.

You approach, closer and closer. Almost there. Steps away from protection and those sweet sweet calories. Your leg muscles are burning. Stomach grumbling. Then, out of the corner of your eye, something comes bursting out of the bushes. A male lion appears out of nowhere. The sneaky bastard ambushed you. It was all a trap. You feel his powerful claws pounce onto your back as you collapse, holding out one hand towards the tree in vain. You look up and see the sweet source of sugar and fiber as the king of the jungle disembowels you. You've never felt pain like this before. Not since the initiation into manhood wherein you had to stick your dick into a bee hive for several hours until your schlong became so swollen it looked like a grapefruit. "Fruit..." the final coherent thought you have before passing out and leaving this plane of existence forever.

Today, you can go to the store, pull out a piece of plastic, and obtain more calories than any human being in the history of our species. You can literally gorge yourself to the point of puking, pass out from the resulting carb crash, repeat that every day until you run of money, take out a loan for more money, buy as many illegal drugs as you want, as many whores as you want, until you overdose and feel nothing but pure bliss pulsating through your entire body for day, at which point said body gives out and you die a happy man, not because of the chemicals overloading your happiness circuits, but because you realize in that instant there's no point bothering with existing after experiencing this indescribable peak of human emotion.

Stop trying to be happy.

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Original Post: https://www.universalaxioms.com/stop-trying-to-be-happy/