(no subject)
I am alive, and I am happy; I am alive and I am joyful; I am alive and all my life is frothing, frothing, fermenting, throwing white froth; and though I cannot read the language of the sun, of the seeds falling from the sun, I am happy; an immeasurable contentment -- a shivering sort of love for the world. It sweeps through me, shaking my bones, rattling, howling, calming -- how I settle into it sometimes, cold thought of happiness, the objectivity of happiness; how I wear it like a coat.
How strange -- objective happiness -- how distant, how remote, how wonderfully glowing.
How strange -- objective happiness -- how distant, how remote, how wonderfully glowing.