Euphoric Insecuric

I like to rhyme....rhyme is a funny word...

Lately whenever I go to write any kind of entry that I might consider substantial I get this extremely anxious feeling about me. I struggle with this whenever I am very happy. When I'm happy, I don't write much, I don't reflect much. I'm not really sure why but I lose all interest in introspection when I'm happy. Some of the time this scares me, but mostly I enjoy being content. The only reason it scares me some of the time is because I feel like I start to lose sight of myself when I'm wrapped in euphoria. What scares me even more is that I relate "myself" to an unhappy state and that's far from healthy.

Why is it so hard for me to find growth and change unless there is something in my life that either scares me or makes me unhappy? Is that just the way it works?

I don't know...I feel like I should be able to move forward and grow when I'm happy instead of stopping...it feels like I'm stopping right now and rolling around in my happiness and not really acknowledging the world around me, including myself. Is that so wrong? Should I even feel guilty and neglectful towards myself when I do this? Is it because I kept happiness at a distance for such a big chunk of my life that I don't really know what to do with it when it presents itself? And why the hell do I consider substantial entries depressing ones or sad ones? What is it that attracts me so much to being sad and jaded? What the fuck is wrong with me?

Anyway, after all of that I've decided to just be happy and screw everything else.

Philosophy for today:

Temper your imagination. You must sometimes rein it in and sometimes encourage it. On imagination all happiness depends: it should be governed by good sense. Sometimes it behaves like a tyrant. It isn't content to speculate, but swings into action and takes over your life, making it pleasant or unpleasant, and making us happy or too satisfied with ourselves. To some it shows only grief: for imagination is a homespun henchman of fools. To others it promises happiness and adventure, gaiety and giddiness. It can do all this as long as it remains unchecked by prudence and common sense.