The heavens are calling you and wheel around you displaying to you their etheral beauties and still your eye is looking on the ground.
Dante

I typed happiness into the DeviantArt search bar. It didnt define my idea of happiness. I was driving the night before last. From one end of Mississauga to the other. Radio on. Dusk. Beautiful skies, flaming maple. Feeling blissfully happy. Satisfied. Grateful for friends, family. A working brain. Functional limbs.

No one can make you happy. You choose to be so. You choose to structure your life in a manner that befits your temperament. You choose to look at everything in a positive light. If I were to look at a photograph of myself, I think I would find it difficult to recognise myself. Yet when I read something similar to how I think be it my penmanship or someone else’s, I can see myself in the concept. This is a very odd post. But I think I’ll post it anyway.

With regard to the subject, wake up and smell the roses.