Everyone has their own idea of happiness…
So do I. I know it doesn’t fit into your definition — it’s not spiritual, it’s not complete. It’s pure, plain materialism. Tangible things I can feel on my skin, in my throat, in my stomach. Things that satiate me. Things that make me feel full to the brim.

My idea of happiness is not everlasting. It’s basic, it’s fragile. It will need a change… a change into another fragile idea of happiness, and then another.

Petty as it may be… it’s my worldly idea of happiness. It will evolve… it will grow… it will show me the pain of achieving something beyond my capacity. It will make me strong — or weak — while I toil to achieve it. It will teach me lessons of letting go, of accepting defeat, of basking in the joy of winning. It will teach me the art of hoarding… the art of possessiveness… the art of self-doubt… this one I master like none other… the art of overthinking… a complete soap opera in my mind.

My idea of happiness is simple, easy to understand, and requires bare minimum effort on the part of the mind. I find it in my dog’s eyes, I find it in my work, I find it in the couplet I write, I find it in your smile, I find it when I see you laugh, I find it when you confess your love, I find it when the world lights up, and I find it when things go dark…