Gross National Happiness Index

I'm eating Cheetos and drinking beer, like your sad ex-lover. I'm crying over her captions and fixating on your photos that capture the same life we had but with a modified cast. I've been so focused on your comings and goings that I've forgotten to keep moving myself. Social media is a daily reminder of everything I'm missing; a path of circles that I get lost in. It is also my door to world; a means of justifying my existence to the single or several strangers that choose to watch. Just within hours of deactivation, the colors of myself seem to fade without an audience to impress. There's no one but myself to pass judgement on, no one else to compare my life to, no one to water the flower that is my ego. With nothing else to fixate on, I'm forced to look within for acceptance and to focus on my own choices. I chose this path willingly but I'm scared to be alone on my island. I fear the thoughts that I've made room for and I worry that the isolation is framework for failure.