I get bored of being happy sometimes. I say that laughing makes people naive because they don't see the reality of the world. Lately, I've been able to find beauty in random things, like a random little kid on the bus trying to learn the days of the week, or graffiti on the side of a building in a shady neighbourhood. But it only makes me sadder that other people can't see the world like that. I've seen the lowest lows, where people, who have everything that money can buy, aren't happy; then I've seen the highest highs, where people, with nothing, have everything they need. As I gain a deeper understanding of things, humanity disappoints me more and more each day.
People are the way they are because of their pasts. The more I get to know about someone's past, it makes me want to cry, thinking about that that's why they are the way they are. It reminds me of a good friend of mine who was listening to a speech about this in school last year. He told me that he immediately thought of me, and how he wondered what I'd gone through to be who I am today. Ever since, I've wondered as well. It's caused me to look into my past, as well as the pasts of those who have influenced my life. I almost regret knowing, but I'm glad that I'd wondered in the first place. I guess it's just easier to see what you see, and not question it.
I think I'm clinically depressed, as well as having OCD. I should probably get tested sometime in the near future.