sammy_rambles

 Why do people still write? It’s not a question I ask lightly. In a world that seems to be drowning in words, spilling from screens and books and voices, why does anyone feel the need to add more? What is it they’re hoping for? What do they expect to find?   Maybe it’s the need to be seen, to be heard in a way that feels permanent. Maybe it’s the hope that, in the labyrinth of human experience, someone will stumble upon their words and feel less alone. Or maybe it’s simpler than that. Maybe people write because they’re trying to understand themselves, to make sense of the chaos that churns inside them.   I used to believe writing was an act of brilliance, reserved for those with something extraordinary to say. But now I wonder if it’s something much smaller and humbler than that. Writing, I think, isn’t about saying something new; it’s about making sense of the old, of the familiar. It’s about taking what we already know—love, loss, joy, regret—and holding it up...

 Happiness is not a state that one stumbles upon by accident, nor is it something granted only to the fortunate. It is a condition that can be cultivated, a garden that must be carefully tended. I would argue that happiness is not a mystical abstraction but a practical goal, attainable by aligning one's life with certain principles. First, I suggest that happiness is rooted in a life lived outwardly rather than inwardly. Those who are perpetually preoccupied with their own emotions, desires, and fears are trapped in a kind of prison. They magnify their own troubles and cut themselves off from the richness of the world around them. The truly happy person, by contrast, is one who looks outward—to the beauty of nature, the excitement of ideas, the joy of relationships, and the challenge of meaningful work. Happiness, in my view, comes from engaging with the world rather than withdrawing from it. The modern individual is plagued by unnecessary misery, much of it self-inflicted. Envy,...