For months now, I’ve been trying to join in the bandwagon of this hash tag 100 happy days: can you be happy for 100 days straight? via Instagram.
I contemplated on Instagramming it on the day I first set foot in a totally alien land, the day I got my books signed by author Mitch Albom, the day when Joey Potter had Pacey Witter’s god-awful beard shaved or the day I had that feeling when I first watched an episode of Fringe (basically all things related to Joshua Jackson), the first time I went to Cebu or Vigan, the day I had Vanilla Cupcake Bakery’s oreo cheescake cupcake, the day we realized we need to stand up for ourselves, the day my mom got her Mother’s Day gift we sent her, whenever Poipoi does one of her cute antics or even on one of the most mundane day that I wasn’t late for a meeting. But I didn’t.
I didn’t feel like it. 100 happy days seemed like too mainstream and too “look-I’m-happy-you-should-be-jealous-of-what-I’m-posting-eating-doing-where-I-am-who-I’m-with” or the more “Wala kayo sa lolo ko!” joke to me. It somehow felt over sharing to me. Yep, coming from the girl who writes about her life publicly. K fine, I know that the whole idea of this hash tag is to look at the brighter side of things and spread the happiness. But does it really do just that?
I believe that the happiest days, really, are those that we are unable to capture with our cameras, or your GoPros mounted on a stick; you’re just too happy you forget to take a snap of it.
I’ve come to realize that the more we tell other people how happy we are, the unhappier we get. It feels like we’re convincing ourselves that we are happy and everything is fine even when we’re not. Because it’s okay not to be happy for a hundred days straight. And it’s okay not to tell people that we are having the time of our lives. It’s totally okay not to hit the “post” button.
When we have become so consumed by showing to our online friends on how cool and happy and fulfilled and jealousy-inducing our lives are, that’s when we become really lonely. Isn’t that taxing?
I’m not telling you to stop your happiness project. Maybe some people can really be happy for 100 days straight, I don’t know. The half full kind of people, perhaps?
What am I blabbing about, really?
I just think that happiness, like feeling alive and bitter and excited and everything in between is an inside job.
Maybe that’s the reason why the letter “I” has been smacked right in the middle of the word HAPPINESS. It kinda starts within you, you know. And no amount of ‘hearts’ or ‘likes’ or ‘favorites’ is tantamount to that certain kind of high or happiness you feel.
But then again, this is just me being cynical. Start your #100happydays challenge now if you wish to. 🙂