//------------------------------// // Happiness is Overrated // Story: Journal of Occasional Nonsensicality // by Acryliks //------------------------------// "...do you ever think that we'll be forever stuck within our own little pocket of the universe, never able to reach the stars that we look up to at night? How far can we really go? With that in mind, what even is the point of moving forward? If we know that we are eventually going to come up against a wall, what even is the point of living?" "..." "..." "...well aren't you just a fuckin' ray of sunshine?" Vinyl shot at me. I smirked at her, turning back to gazing out the window. For the past hour rain had been pouring down from the sky. I was about to begin making my way home at the time, but Octavia had suggested that I just wait here for the rain to let up, lest I get soaked on my trip. "Listen man, somebody has to wonder about these things," I told Vinyl. I heard the clicks and clacks of a cello case being opened as we conversed. "Yeah, but there are people who actually get paid to think about that stuff. You aren't one of them." "Sure, but I am a writer. I get paid to express my thoughts and project my creativity. In a way, I get paid to think as well," I explained. "You know what? I'd drink to that if I had a drink," she nodded slowly. Vinyl's ears perked up as she thought. "You know what again? Why don't I have a drink?" she asked the room. I glanced across the coffee table to Octavia. "I don't know, go for it," I waved. Vinyl nodded, hopping out of her seat and ambling into the kitchen in search of intoxication. "Have you ever thought about how good of an inspiration rain is?" Octavia polled. "Hm, what do you mean?" I tilted my head. "Think about it. Your thoughts change when it's raining, do they not?" she asked me. I nodded, thinking about my earlier existential crisis. "Well it's the same way with music; with anything creative, really. Different times of day, different weather, the seasons... they can all sway how we think... how we create," Octavia thought aloud, pulling her cello out of its case and retrieving her bow. "Mm, I can see where you're coming from. Whenever it rains I write about things that are... not necessarily sad, but... things that are almost... taboo? Maybe not taboo, but things that most people would rather not think about," I added, taking a sip of my tea. Octavia stood up with her cello, slowly and quietly checking her tuning. "It's the same with my practice. I like to play melancholic pieces when it rains. It's not because I'm sad, but... I don't know... maybe my cello is sad." "Ha! With all the extra humidity in the air, I can see why the rain makes it sad," I laughed. Octavia giggled, drawing her bow across her A string. Slowly, she played. I always reveled in the opportunity to hear my friend play, and this time was no different. She was playing a piece that I was unfamiliar with, but it sounded beautiful nonetheless. "Sometimes I wish it would start raining and never stop. I love the rain," Octavia sighed. I sat and listened to her, glancing over as Vinyl came back and sat down with a glass of wine. "Ah, you two are always so depressing. What's with you?" Vinyl asked, taking a long sip of her drink. "Pfft, it's too depressing to be happy all of the time," I spoke. Octavia glanced up at me, her playing faulting ever so slightly. "Those are words to live by. You shouldn't let anyone tell you that you need to be cheerful all of the time. It's just completely unrealistic," she mused. I nodded as I sipped on my tea. "Besides, happiness is overrated anyway." For the rest of the late afternoon, Octavia played us beautiful music, and it was wonderful. I never wanted to leave.