Yes

Wish me welcome, my brothers, from a strange silence choked with school and other useless negations. One word from the darkness, brothers:

The universe is freaking huge.

Horror!

To think that we're responsible for our happiness. Better to close this thought and go on with the deterministic scheme and be hit by transitory rarities of joy interspersed with long dark nights of pain. The one who wags his finger at God with a condemnatory curse for not providing has a parallel sigh reflected back on him. What is harder in the whole system of space and matter than to break the weight of passivity and push toward that shining euphoric shore?

Could the transition to happiness be a pathway of stubbornness?