Happiness

They want to be Happy. All people want to be Happy. They know what It is, or at least they think they do. They've seen It, felt It, taken a taste of It but it wasn't real. They were told it would make them Happy, but it didn't.

We search all of our lives for Happiness but It never seems to stick around. Maybe we can't handle It. Maybe we aren't supposed to handle It. We know It's there, It exists, but we can never seem to keep It in our grasp. Perhaps that's what death is, pure, unfiltered, uninterrupted Happiness. Death may only seem sad because we make it sad. Perhaps death really is sad, but even then we know that Happiness is still there.

It's everywhere really, you just have to find it. So you try. Sometimes you think you find It, rarely you really do but it's reassuring to know that It's there somewhere. And that's what hope is: the reassurance that you can somehow reach Happiness. There's no formula for It and you must accept that. You can do things to help find what you think is Happiness but when It truly happens you just know. It's unexpected and raw. It makes you feel like you might go crazy at any moment but you don't care because you know you won't. You know that in a few minutes, hours if you're lucky, that you will be thrust back into a world of sadness and restriction. Then you will begin to search again. But you don't find Happiness.

Happiness finds you.