Ozzy day 28 Envy

What is wrong with me? I'm unstable. Jealous of other people's happiness. What happened to the man who proclaimed the End of the World. Where is the man happy just because he had himself. I’m dramatic, weak, and unhappy. It's envy that is running through my veins now. A gross sickly thing it is. Other people are working harder and it makes me feel worse. Other people are hardly working and it fills me with anger. Everyone else's grass looks so green. And me? I live in a barren desert filled with spite. My insides are a twisted mess of discontent and petty resentment. What is it that's wrong? I tell myself that if I get the things other people have I'll be happy. Once I have someone to call my own. Once I worked hard like the others. If I slack off like the ones who annoy me. Shallow lies I tell myself. I know now that satisfaction comes from within. So in the same way, these ugly emotions of mine belong only to me. No one else caused it. No one else wishes this for me. I sit in turmoil because I want to. Because I can not be satisfied with what I have. Because the great life I have just isn't enough anymore. What a pathetic creature I've become. I am a shriveling wreck. I have more than most of the world but still it means nothing. What's the point of it all if I end up like this? I need to regulate myself but when I try I fail. I just look for vices to alleviate the feelings I can't handle on my own. I have no enemies, but I fight myself over everything. If I find someone to love, would it be love? Or just me using that person like a tool. A drug to help me overcome my lows. This is the behavioral pattern that I scorn. I scoff at people unable to be content on their own. And now I've joined their ranks. I never really understood envy until now. I am nothing but envious. I just want what others have. I don't care about the things I have until someone else wants them. I don't care. What makes you happy? Can I have it? WIll it make me happy? Do I even want to be happy? Or do I just want other people to be as miserable as me. I can't even wear a fake smile. I can't even pretend to be happy. 

Why can't I appreciate the things I have?

Why do I want the things I don't?

Why is it hard for me to breathe?

Why am I riddled with doubts?

Why am I so envious?