Sometimes, I think I would be happier if I had no depth.
Think about it. Look at all those superficial girls who wear their emotions on their sleeves because they have no need to hide them, and no enough brain power to think any deeper than the surface. Despite all there is to mock about them, they always seem happy.
Lately, I haven't been as depressed as I usually am. Still, I can't help but compare my happiness to others. Compare might not be the right word here. There really is nothing to compare. I may be happy-ish, but I am not happy. I blame it on depth.
I keep everything inside, dropping it into some whole deep inside me, and every once in awhile some monster at the bottom throws something back up and hits me in the head. Probably pay back for me throwing stuff at his head all the time.
Depth gives people the ability to analyze everything around them, because they have more room to store it all. Now, this often comes off as intelligence. However, this "ability" as I called it also allows people to look into themselves. The human psyche is one of those mystical places that mere mortals should not try to understand. It will only drive them mad. If it doesn't drive a person insane, they might wish they were so they could forget the things they discovered when they treaded there.
So I would much rather be the stereotypical dumb blonde, without the blonde because I rather like my brunette locks.
I don't think people could ever accept things that come their way. Look at me, I am dealing with my depression and in a period where I am obviously beating it. Can I just accept this good luck in my life? Nope.
I can never be pleased it seems. My guy has a lot of work cut out for him.
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