Better to go our separate ways.

Making a living as a psychiatrist. That would be a hard way to go. One would be dealing with unhappy and mentally disturbed people. All the time. I do it as an amateur. As a part-time dabbler. Just for kicks. But if I had to do it full-time, as a serious professional, I’d be in constant need of psychotherapy. I’d go nuts. Trying to help unhappy people find routes to happiness. When really, many of  them don’t want to be happy. They prefer having glum outlooks on life. They sort of thrive on unhappiness.  That’s their nature.  In an odd sense, it’s their source of fulfillment. Anyway, those truly seeking happiness, often fail. That’s got to be a real downer. Makes them even more unhappy. In observing their plights, I become morose. Sad. Therefore, it might be wise for me to avoid the unhappy elements of society. The likes of my disturbed dear friend Julie. Yes, Julie may be unreachable from the likes of me. Better to go our separate ways.  --Jim Broede