Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.

Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.
- Ernest Hemingway, author and journalist, Nobel laureate (1899-1961)

I came across this article, written about negative correlation between happiness and IQ.
http://www.scribd.com/doc/8778/Why-Intelligent-People-Tend-To-Be-Unhappy
Although I do realise that this may be true, I disagree with the general consensus that this lack of happiness is stimulated by social exclusion. I am considered naturally intelligent - not one of those ones who slave away, I am exceptionally socially active yet I too, am often unhappy. Below I have gathered the opinions of a diversity of people who have attempted to explain this confusing phenomena.

1) Are intelligent people less happy?
Intelligent people, I have found are typically less happy. The reason for this is simple; they are better able to rationalize their delusions. The ability to stomach truth has little to do with intelligence - nothing in fact. The intellect is far better at arguing away truths than at finding them. I'm not saying intelligent people are sad, I'm just saying it takes a lot more effort to prove happiness to them and they are greater at seeing the delusions of fake happiness hence their disposition of being less content.

2) Are intelligent people less happy?
Ignorance is bliss.

3) Are intelligent people less happy?
Maybe it's not intelligence that makes people happy or unhappy as it is perception. The different ways people perceive the world, themselves, and others are the determining factors in their happiness.

4) Are intelligent people less happy?
I would argue that (academically) intelligent people are not unhappy because they are able to "rationalize their delusions". They are likely unhappy because of the higher expectations for success placed on persons perceived to possess superior thinking skills. For example, consider a child who is a math prodigy at a very young age, but later, does not grow up to exceed the achievements of great mathematicians such as Einstein. The failure to live up to this very high and (perhaps unreasonable) expectation - something which persons of lesser mathematical ability would likely not entertain--might lead to unhappiness.

5) Are intelligent people less happy?
You need intelligence to find the truth and ignorance to believe in it - in the quest for the truth, the intelligent look perennially dissatisfied even while they are actually satisfying themselves at every step of uncovering and discovering the unending myths.

Personal Opinion;
In my opinion, happiness is dependent on the personality and surrounding environment - not directly on one's intelligence. However intelligence tends to influence the personality and surrounding environment hence having an indirect effect on the individual's happiness. I believe that intelligent people often see the realities that lie within this world. They are able to suss out ulterior motives, and possess the intuition to know and understand more than meets the eye. The truth is often ugly, and these intelligent individuals cannot help but see the truth at every corner. They say ignorance is bliss and it truly is. The more you know, the more you understand about this cruel world and the less happy you are prone to be. Unless, of course, you are one of those incredibly strong individuals who seek to solve each problem, and will continue to resolve the issues that surface. Unfortunately, where I'm from these types of individuals are not appreciated. Ignorance is key and stupidity is valued. Everybody's cool with the  'I don't care, because I don't understand.'

Lollipop Luxury: Jeffree Star

Not for the narrow minded.

Paradigm Shift.

What is a memory? Memory may be defined as “the power of retaining and recalling past experiences”. A memory is the powerful delve into the back of ones mind, the segment of ones mind where all experiences – negative and positive accumulate. Ones memory is the re-experiencing of the experience itself, complimented by the emotion one felt during the time of this experience. I have been asked to describe my ‘best memory’, an impossible task if taken literally due to the diversity of definitions for the word ‘best’. I, therefore, will commence a description of the memory I can recall most effectively. Unfortunately this memory is not a positive one, although the consequences of this memory have been life altering. The memory is a description of when I first found out about my mother’s cancer.

It was late December, the frosty snow and chilly atmosphere a never-ending cloud looming upon the community of North West London. I was sitting by the fire place watching TV as usual when my mother walks in, a blank expression plastered on her usually overly-expressive face. Immediately interpreting this expression as an indicator of something negative I get up and turn towards her. Her facial tension relaxes and she calmly conveys the not so surprising news that she would remain in England for a month longer to check for a possible recurrence of endometriosis, a sickness that had originally prevented her from having children. I, the naïve child of a mere 8, accepted and absorbed the information and returned to my chair.
My dad, my brother and I have returned to Sri Lanka and school has begun. The 25th of January, the date my mother had promised to return was soon approaching. I’m sitting in the Family Room with my brother watching my dad’s car return from work. Silently we wait till he crosses the garden, climbs the stairs and enters the family room. Our suspicions were confirmed, our mother would not be returning until March. March becomes April, April becomes May, the damp drops of rain from the wet season soon transform into the golden petals which light the Sri Lankan sky during the dry season. Summer is drawing nearer and I still linger under the impression that my mom may have some unknown disease that made no sense to me at all. The naïve child I was had disappeared, replaced by an intriguingly misunderstood personality with the ability to analyze experiences with understanding way beyond my years. My sadness and confusion had been converted into fury, I, in my ignorance was 'clutching to the roots of wilted flowers' (Paul S).

Just another afternoon in early June, an atmosphere composed of neutrality and fake nonchalance had defined the mood of the month. Sitting alone at my Piano, I lightly flitted through Scherzo in A and The Moth, the pieces I knew to be my mother’s favourite. The phone begins to ring, the one disturbance I deemed as absolutely unappreciated. The one disturbance I despised during my time with my Piano. I jumped up and thundered towards the obnoxious object that had dared to disturb my moment of serenity and focus. I answered the phone, immediately discontinuing its ringing. It was my mother.

I don’t remember what she said to me or how she said it, but I do remember towards the end of the phone call I was sitting in a daze near the phone, the thoughts in my mind flashing and disappearing randomly. My mind, the most organized part of my life, momentarily lost order. The one expected emotion under those circumstances is sadness, however sadness I felt not. My body was overcome with anger. Anger at the fact that both my brother and father knew of my mother’s cancer yet I, for weeks, had been left in a state of blind ignorance. My anger overwhelmed my sadness and from then on, up until now, I seldom feel sad. The appropriate sadness is always replaced by anger. Throughout my development as a person the way in which I expressed my anger evolved and became less destructive. During my years of high school my fuse grew longer and longer. My fuse has now grown so long I can control almost every emotion I experience. I can force myself to feel feelings I’ve never felt and I can force myself to ignore the feelings I feel. Selective denial I call it, but denial is accompanied by negative reactions and opinions. My type of denial is merely the ability to control my mentality.

Show me what you're worth.

Dignity is the most crucial component in creating a worthy self-respecting human being. One must respect themselves, and have faith in their abilities. I consider it disgusting when the people around me feel the need to trample their dignity in order to feel accepted. Those revolting creatures I am hesitant to classify as human are so low, very soon their soles will incinerate from contact with the blazing core. Two things I despise; lack of dignity, pride or self respect and slime. When I imagine these people, I picture slime dripping from the corner of their mouths eroding lines of repulsiveness around the hole in their face. Not an exaggeration. Personally, I'd rather be an obnoxious, self-obsessed individual in comparison to a, as harsh as it may sound, following desperate walkover, or any related behaviour that lacks such dignity. In my opinion, individuals without individuality can barely be classified as human. I have no respect whatsoever for those lowlife creatures who are willing to sacrifice their dignity for pathetic factors such as the acceptance of others. The loss of pride occurs when we get caught up in trying to get others to admire, like, love or accept us. We attempt to avoid rejection at all costs. Through our sickening insecurities we try to coerce or force others into accepting us. It is this type of behaviour that immediately deteriorates from the amount of respect we receive from others. Those who live for the approval of others, might as well cease to live. If you cannot be your own person, you do not deserve to exist.

Pride itself however, is a dangerous attribute. Excessive pride has been known to hinder relationships, cause unnecessary controversy and encourage a superiority complex. It is at this point, pride starts becoming a detriment to ones emotional success. This is when one must begin to control their dignity and prevent these characteristics from developing into true self obsession. Self obsession during a casual day and place is acceptable. It can be used as humour, a conversation topic or to spice up the moment. It is when worst comes to worst, when controversies arise and friction is created that one is able to judge the true character of an individual. It is possible for one to wallow in self-obsession, yet during their moments of truth, transform into a calm - to even the point of being cold or sinister - individual. Pride is fundamental to earning respect, and I'd rather be respected than liked. Of course I'd like to liked, I am human after all. However, respect is regard to a whole new level. Respect reflects the quality of the person, while portraying their ability to remain individualistic. Self-respect determines ones place in society, those with dignity are immediately categorized above those who lack this crucial attribute; regardless of colour, ethnicity, religion, social status, wealth and education. Dignity is the true deciding factor used to categorize people in the most effective manner possible, based on their self-respect.

Dignity is the ability
to stand strong and tall
in the face of adversity
While being able
to bow to the elderly
and crawl with the children

Dignity is taking a stand
for your beliefs
without closing your mind
to another’s opinion

Dignity is being an example
by your deeds
and through your words
avoiding anger and lies

Dignity will manifest itself
in the warmth of your smile
the depth of your love
and the kindness for your fellowman

- Mychal Wynn

The Six Styles of Love

* Eros is a passionate physical and emotional love based on an appreciation of beauty, from which the modern idea of romantic love derives. Eros is known to be, as its name indicates, the most 'erotic' style of love. It includes intense sexuality and lust is a key component of eros. The attraction on which eros is based usually fades with time.

* Storge is love as friendship. It is an affectionate love that slowly develops from friendship based strong companionship and shared values. Storgic lovers want their partner to be their best friend, and this friendship can survive the breakdown of the partnership.

* Ludus is love that's a game, where conquest is the goal. Ludic love offers little intimacy, however the amounts of intensity involved may vary from lover. A ludic lover makes little effort to form a longer commitment since they just enjoy the chase and the challenge. The saying, 'you want what you can't have and when you get it, you don't want it anymore' represents the ludic lover.

* Agape is dutiful, selfless love, a love of giving without asking anything in return. They view their partners as blessings and want to take care of them. It is the combination of eros and storge, a sexual type of love combined with care and friendship. Often thought to be the 'best' kind of love.

* Pragma is realistic, practical logical love. The type of love which can go out looking for a partner based on a shopping list of requirements, which can be a bit unemotional. Pragma is a combination of ludus and storge.

* Mania is an obsessive and highly volatile love. It is troubled love with dependence on the other person, great intensity and jealousy, and is accompanied by the most chemical changes in the body. Mania is the combination of ludus and eros.

The Fear: Lily Allen

I want to be rich and I want lots of money
I don’t care about clever I don’t care about funny
I want loads of clothes and fuck loads of diamonds
I heard people die while they are trying to find them

And I’ll take my clothes off and it will be shameless
'Cause everyone knows that’s how you get famous
I’ll look at the sun and I’ll look in the mirror
I’m on the right track yeah I’m on to a winner

I don’t know what’s right and what’s real anymore
I don’t know how I’m meant to feel anymore
When do you think it will all become clear?
‘Cause I’m being taken over by the fear

Life’s about film stars and less about mothers
It’s all about fast cars and cussing each other
But it doesn’t matter 'cause I’m packing plastic
and that’s what makes my life so fucking fantastic

And I am a weapon of massive consumption
It's not my fault it’s how I’m programmed to function
I’ll look at the sun and I’ll look in the mirror
I’m on the right track yeah we're on to a winner

Forget about guns and forget ammunition
Cause I’m killing them all on my own little mission
Now I’m not a saint but I’m not a sinner
Now everything's cool as long as I’m getting thinner

I don’t know what’s right and what’s real anymore
I don’t know how I’m meant to feel anymore
When do you think it will all become clear?
‘Cause I’m being taken over by fear

Sacrifice.

The break of dawn calls,
resurrecting us from our vulnerable state,
Stand to! And we awake from our
sleepless slumber.
The bitter, empty night,
spent writhing in fright
rats nibbling at our skin.
The break of dawn calls,
inviting us to join our closest companion,
death.

Us demoralized creatures,
facing exploitation
blindly following the rest of the living dead,
to and beyond the incinerating fires of hell.
In monotone we trudge along,
deprived of liberty, deprived of freedom
We cannot return.

Our hopes of liberation,
a mere hallucination,
suppressed under the thick veil of deception.
Our crave for freedom infatuating,
we cannot escape.

Trapped in a game of dominoes,
one by one, we all fall down.
The lust for victory's sweet flavour,
replaced with the salty taste of tears.
Facing internal abyss, we live to exist.
Our only hope,
the hope of surviving the second,
the minute, the hour.
The price tag on our lives now worthless,
time is ticking.
We cannot flee.

The deafening silence
pierced by the sound of a bullet.
The man beside me falls to his knees
a wilted flower in the desolate autumn wind.

Ascending into heaven on his paper wings,
he falls back down
towards the blazing fires of hell.
Looking down upon his past life he wonders,
did I sacrifice my life for nothing?
His thoughts in vain he falls,
towards an eternity of torment.

I pray for a cease fire,
yet it does not come
Pride clouds the vision of our leaders
Save me from the inevitable
free me from my fate
please, I beg you.

What's love?

Personal Opinion:

'Love' is the combination of three separate factors; lust, attraction and attachment.

Lust is the initial passionate sexual desire that includes the more 'thrilling' aspects of love. Lust is the aspect of love that involves the increased release of chemicals such as testosterone and estrogen. The effects of pure lust rarely last more than a few weeks or months.

Attraction is the more specific romantic desire of a certain individual. Attraction develops out of lust as commitment to an individual forms.

Due to the temporary nature of both attraction and lust, a third component must be factored in to explain long term relationships.

The final component of 'love' is attachment. Attachment is a bond that draws two individuals to each other based on care and devotion. It is is the aspect of love that includes marriage, children and further commitments.This component of love includes the realistic aspects of a long term relationship and addresses the fact that a steady relationship needs to be based on more than pure physical attraction. Factors such as similar interests, intellectual stimulation, acceptance and the ability to forgive are crucial to completing the definition of 'love' and are classified under the umbrella of 'attachment''. Often during the stage of attachment a mutual friendship forms. These many elements of attachment, in addition to lust and attraction, are the fundamental aspects of 'love'.

Then there is that typical cliché attribute of love. That something 'more', thought to be indescribable. I, however, will try my best to explain this phenomena as soon as I have felt it, sometime in the distant future - there's the pessimist in me speaking.

The Riddler

"What exists in a word, a letter, and in three; is asked too little and too much, yet is a building block of life and an enduring mystery? Give up? Why? Why is it that no one notices? No one thinks? Because nobody ever cares about the why of the matter." ~The Riddler

I love riddles. Not those common structured riddles used to quiz the natural intelligence and wit of a person, but the riddles people play with the minds of others. To me, life is a game as sinister as it may sound. Everything is expendable, except myself.
Life to me, one could say, is a game with no rules and restrictions - the sole objective is to achieve.
After reading the paragraph above, I can be rest assured that you have made an assumption on the kind of person I am. However, keep in mind the age old cliche saying: ASS-U-ME, and you'd be making an ass of you and me.
Although I have grown fond of riddles, mind games and other games of the sort, I am not particularly effective in the art of manipulation due to my open attitude. I am one to make an entrance, one to make my presence known. I do not hide in the shadows and invisbily play the role of the pupetteer. The strings I pull are known to all and often appreciated. My open nature completely contradicts the purpose of manipulation hence weakening my efficacy in this intricate art - sentence directly aimed at the many blind people I have surrounded myself with, who do not possess the power to make their own observations, go beyond or search for the hidden reality. I hope I have straightened that out in my writing, since I do not feel the need to explain myself personally to those inferior judgmental bodies.
The modern definition of manipulation has become synonymous with deception. Yes, I am controlling, loud, proud, vain and opinionated however deception is a quality I find particularly complex. I may be deceptive, however the minute my deception hinders my pride or dignity I draw the line.

Now that I have concluded a basic introduction to myself regarding this matter, I can now elaborate on my opinion of The Riddler. The Riddler, a fundamental character in Batman who plays a crucial role in the composition of the notorious Arkham Asylum, is the only fictional character I have found to be a near perfect representation of me and the philosophy which I live by.

The Riddler, a freelance criminologist turned master criminal and con artist. Respect and recongition are what propel your actions, and you feel you've been underappreciated all your life. People themselves are riddles to you, and once they're solved, they're discarded. Mind games and entrapment are your forté, and you often toy with people for fun. Your mind is your most powerful asset, yet it contributes to a massive ego and a worldview that most people are inferior to yourself--or rather, that you'd like them to see it that way. Secretly, you fear being 'figured out' by anyone else, so you compensate by making bizarre but false claims, stumping people with misdirection, and performing elaborate stunts at others' expense. In your mind, you're weeding out the mentally unworthy. Ultimately, you force people to think about everything they do and say, for there is no right answer with The Riddler.

Tears of anxiety and apprehension
filthy your face.
Thoughts of what could be,
what should be
incinerate your fruitless mind.
Analyzing, observing and
justifying your actions
are all of no avail my dear.
For there is no right,
and there is no wrong,
with the Riddler.

The paragraph above the poem wholly explains my views on life and how it should be lived. However, I hope the contradictory nature of the paragraph above has left you wondering about the truth of my entire post. Is the paragraph a lie? Or does the false truth lie within the introduction? Is the post a mere exaggeration of true aspects of my personality? Or is the entire post completely fabricated? I shall leave you to decide, since if you know me yet cannot make your own decisions, observations and conclusions, you are not worthy to be on my page.