A Bowl of Elusive

There are times when I absolutely loathe myself. But then that can be said about any of us, right? Actually I have often found myself being a bad guy. Its not something I do wilfully. I just do. I have a healthy moral compass most of the time, but more often than not, it turns itself off. I do things that are bad and I don't even regret doing them. I just muse about what I did and analyse it like I am doing currently. Another side of it is the fact that I can make incredibly sudden and unpredictable decisions that are borderline illogical even. And then I am forced to live with the consequences. Anyways, to counter it all, I try being good as much as I can. I kinda believe that my mind perceives my life as utterly boring and hence forces me into one crisis or the other so that it keeps getting the exercise that it needs trying to save my ass from the problem it got me into. A bit complicated, ain't it? But that's how life is. At least my life is that way

The pursuit of happiness has always been a tricky one. I am no one special. I am an average guy born to average difficulties like any other person. But I don't stay happy. Now I am not sure whether other people do but I'd like to think so. Otherwise, what's the point of living?  I do experience bouts of happiness every now and then but it is usually followed by patches of melancholy. I don't understand it. Although my life had a rocky start, things kept getting better. It was more or less a smooth ride since my eleventh year, but joy always eluded me. Other people seemed to notice it too. I put up a happy face all through childhood and even became the class clown, but I could never manage to make or keep many friends. I had a lot of admirers though, and for quite some time, the attention I got from them kept me going. But attention is no substitute for self-esteem. My self-worth or rather the lack of it kept on eating me from inside. It affected everything,