I don’t believe in happiness - or I do
Just not... let me explain
I don’t believe in the fantasy
I don’t believe in the notion that it just happens
When you “let everything go”
Or the idea that it’s some sort of prize
Because that makes it a game; a trophy
An artificial moment of temporary mirth
That we feel we deserve
We don’t

It’s not about the high
Because the outstretched hand will never meet the clouds
No matter the size of the bulging veins in a yearning face
It’s where you become content with the air around you
Pulling up the grass and taking in the smell
Regardless of the stains
Becoming apart of the rhythm that stems from the branches whose leaves have fallen


I believe happiness is a choice
A conscious decision made in our darkest of shadows
Only appreciated when the sum of our decisions equals
All of the things we never wished with 1000 pennies
Happiness is what we are free to choose to be
Once everything stops working and we -

Keats said that “beauty is truth”
I believe he was almost right
I believe there’s a place where the plastic shell breaks
And we accept the truth - the reality
As beautiful
With or without the blue eyes or the rain washed hair

It’s in this place that happiness lives
Where it’s born
Deep within us
Where we decide to feel
And we
Choose - choose to just be.

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