What’s happy? Is it smiling? Is it excitement? Maybe, it’s satisfaction or maybe just a humour.
How long can happiness last? Why don’t I seem to be able to keep mine? Perhaps, I often forget to stay happy, not only for miseries but also tiredness. Every luck I gain doesn’t feed me for more than a week, vanishing at a steady speed that I don’t notice it at all.
Does “not sad” mean happy? Doesn’t happiness of others bring me happiness? How do I find my happiness? Does exhaustion kill happy? Does bringing inconvenience to others slay happy? Does lonesome repel happy? Does staying happy in bad times mean fooling myself?
Who’s there to give me happiness?