Not a fish, maybe a warm gun.

Happiness is not a fish that you can catch. This is the name of an album by I don’t remember whom. I thought it was a silly name, but it makes a lot of sense, in so many ways. As my dad says (YES, omg, I am about to agree with my dad on something), happiness comes from within.

Sometimes, though, it feels like it is not up to you. The world wants you to be unhappy, and what are you to do? I have learnt that, in those cases – which happen more often than not – there is only one thing that can be done. You can only try to be strong enough to make your problems yours and yours alone. Since you’re the one that will have to fix them, it is only fair that you fix only your mess, not everyone elses. No one has the right to rain on your parade; nobody pisses on your friggin’ yard, to put it bluntly.

Sometimes I seem to understand it, sometimes I don’t. Today I do, who knows what tomorrow will bring in terms of moods and words and flowers and silences at the right moment. Happiness is not easy, it is not quick, and it is not something you can find on the outside world or just any grocery store. I sometimes ask myself if it even exists, or is it just a collage of pleasant moments, a photo album that is worth flipping through every once in a while.

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