At the bottom

I look into my glass and ask,
"Where is that happiness I was told about when I was younger?"
"The one found by many men at the bottom of their glass,"
"The one that my older brother couldn't looking for as he drank every week,"
"Where is thy happiness they promised?"
One last time, I look into the glass and said to the bartend,
"Bring me another one, for I am yet to find what I desire from this draught."

It was only a few years later, that I eventually found what I was looking for 
at the bottom of the glass, but it did not taste as good as I had imagined. 
I don't know if it was the liver cancer, or the fact that I was on my third 
divorce now or that my nine kids called me a dead-beat-dad, but it for sure 
did not feel that happy.

It otherwise felt like a realisation that, sometimes it is better not to find what 
we're looking for because we might not actually like it. Unfortunately, 
the thrill of looking for the happiness had taken over my thought process
as I was back to where the problem actually began, at a 'Bar called Bar' 
and here I was two decades later saying to the same bartender,
"Bring me another one, for I found what I was looking for,
but I am not happy with it so I am looking for a different outcome."

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