[private to self // hard to hack]
Do you know what happiness is?
It is a stranger that steals inside when I am not looking.
It is the light illuminating a flower I have never seen before.
It is a foreign language, deciphered one glyph at a time from a dusty old scroll.
Happiness is a reprieve, and a bridge to be sheltered underneath.
It is resting in the lee of a stone set against the wind.
Happiness is the bright dots of my memories, uncertain, and growing stronger, accumulating like petals released from their home, the growing drifts of cherry blossoms.
Happiness is the starlight, pooling in my hands in the darkness, the lamp light of the kitchen curling around my fingers when I am completely alone. It has a yin and a yang, two sides of completion.
It is walking into a house I have never lived in, putting clothes I have never worn, inhabiting a life I have never lived.
Happiness...
The rooms are so spacious here. And the light seems to reach everything.
It is a stranger that steals inside when I am not looking.
It is the light illuminating a flower I have never seen before.
It is a foreign language, deciphered one glyph at a time from a dusty old scroll.
Happiness is a reprieve, and a bridge to be sheltered underneath.
It is resting in the lee of a stone set against the wind.
Happiness is the bright dots of my memories, uncertain, and growing stronger, accumulating like petals released from their home, the growing drifts of cherry blossoms.
Happiness is the starlight, pooling in my hands in the darkness, the lamp light of the kitchen curling around my fingers when I am completely alone. It has a yin and a yang, two sides of completion.
It is walking into a house I have never lived in, putting clothes I have never worn, inhabiting a life I have never lived.
Happiness...
The rooms are so spacious here. And the light seems to reach everything.