the threads in her head

The happiness we know is fleeting. Is it even happiness?

These past few days have been good. Yet my definition of good is defined by what I know of it, from day 1 when I started experiencing life, from where a day filled with trouble and pain was known to me as bad, and things going rather well being good.

I have been looking forward to Thursday all this week. I expected it to be good. It was good. It turned out wonderful. And there is no one to share it with. Not really..

Amid all these happy happy feel-good things, the truth of eternity is still very real, and is the only reality that truly matters.

Fluency of words? Beauty of phrases? Eloquent and elegant, smooth and soothing?

I never. had a power with words.

They do not come as a sudden impulse of overwhelming feelings. Not usually. They come from a SEARCH, where I go deep and deeper and STRUGGLE to find the words.
They are forced.

So let this reflect truly what this is like. CHOPPY. MESSY.

My hands are SHAKING as I type this.

I hate looking at others and wondering about why. I hate to look at others and wonder why they have such messy messy crushes and infatuations on each other. I hate this because I don’t look back at myself.

But at least yesterday, I managed to find something that describes one of my failings.

Vanity.