Happiness. That elusive, sunny disposition we all crave. That end-game we envision without a realistic route of getting there. That "thing" most people say they want out of life. "As long as I'm happy..." they say, honestly admitting that hopes and dreams only amount to one emotion making it all worth it. Most of us have noticed by now that happiness is not as easy to come by as it seems. In fact, each year, about 6.7 percent of the American population ages 18 and over suffer from major depression. And that's only looking at those who are diagnosed.
Before you run away screaming at the sight of the word "poetry," let me tell you that this post will apply to you. No matter if you're a writer, a poet, a photographer, a blogger, an engineer, a teacher, or anything in between, this post is for you. That's why I included all of us in the title. OK, now that I've calmed you down, let's see what this maniac (me. I'm talking in third-person) has to say about... gulp... poetry.
For many of us millennials, the holidays are a time when we take off from work, pack up, and visit our parents' houses. Our parents' homes are usually our childhood homes, nestled right in that memory-filled neighborhood you grew up in. Going home for the holidays is much more than a simple seasonal trek. It is akin to preparing for war. You have to learn how to survive your hometown during the holidays in order to make it out alive. And, luckily for you, I'm a pro at it.