Happy
It's past midnight, the hour when thoughts get louder than the world. It's cloudy. There's no moon to stare at. Otherwise I could ask the moon what to write.
The moon would say, "Write what makes you happy."
After the initial shock of hearing this booming celestial answer from a glowing ball of rock (and the ensuing battery of psychological tests), I would forgive the moon for suggesting this. The light that makes me happy, the source of my happiness, shines from deep within. Trying to uncover it will unearth slimy wriggling memories that I'm uncomfortable sharing with myself, let alone the general public.
Instead I take a moment and acknowledge that there have been billions just like me and there will be billions more. I'm happy. At heart, I'm a bright beam of happiness, and I'll never figure out what makes it or where it comes from. I'm okay with that.
The moon would say, "Write what makes you happy."
After the initial shock of hearing this booming celestial answer from a glowing ball of rock (and the ensuing battery of psychological tests), I would forgive the moon for suggesting this. The light that makes me happy, the source of my happiness, shines from deep within. Trying to uncover it will unearth slimy wriggling memories that I'm uncomfortable sharing with myself, let alone the general public.
Instead I take a moment and acknowledge that there have been billions just like me and there will be billions more. I'm happy. At heart, I'm a bright beam of happiness, and I'll never figure out what makes it or where it comes from. I'm okay with that.
posted by JMH | 12:46 AM
2 Comments:
it's good to notice when we're happy. i think we are happier than we usually think we are.
It's always better on holidays, so much better on holidays, that's why we only work when we need the money.
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