I think we've been taught from such a young age that happiness is meant to be this big, all conduming thing. That it is this moment that cracks upen our bones and changes our lives and sweeps all of the weight inside of us away. That it is something that is awarded to us, gifted to us by the world. That it is something we are always in pursuit of until we find it. And so we are always waiting. Waiting for thus experience, this simplifying in life, this 'aha' moment where the wounds are all healed and the growth is all organized neatly withun or ribcages and our hearts aren't afraid of loving anymore and the warmth never leaves. But i don't think happiness is great, or unlimited, at all. I think real happiness, real happiness. It is in accepting the fact that we will always balance that which is light and dark within ourselves. And I don't think happiness is something you find, or that it's your goal to get to a place where the night never comes and you're bulletproof and unaffected by chaos. But sadly wrong, the mess will always be there.