Happiness.
Seems like some childhood phenomenon.
Honestly, I think it doesn’t exist. Happiness is a myth as a grown up.
The maximum I can feel is a rare feeling of satisfaction
Is that happiness?
But then why don’t I ever want to jump around and smile a smile that isn’t fake, when I am in that state of contentment?
That is why, happiness doesn’t exist for me.
It’s why I don’t feel emotional when I am in crisis, because it isn’t like those crisis put a damper on some very positive phase where I was previously experiencing, say happiness, in life.
It’s always the same. It’s either crisis or no crisis.
And I’d like to think that I have adapted brilliantly to both. But not anything in between.
It may be that happiness is a myth. Or it just doesn’t exist for me. Or maybe it isn’t meant for me at all.
Either way, I think I am okay. I’ll be fine.
A tiny grain in the cosmos meant to extinguish one day, what could the worst possible do to change that?
Nothing.
– Sarah
Sentinel Of Phantasm 