The feeling of happiness is more than a feeling. It’s the driving force behind all human actions, which is to BE happy. Most people don’t think about being happy, they just are. Happiness to them is a right, and they show it without any feeling of content or regression. Unfortunately, I do not fall within that category, nor anywhere near it. To me, happiness is just an act meant to cover the turmoil hidden beneath the thin layer of epidermis that is the only thing separating my soul and the insanity that has surrounded and consumed it, eventually assimilating into a perpetual eternal war, waging without cause nor reason. The outcome is always the same, but completely different. 

     Happiness cannot be contained or owned, but it is still an object. Daily, we boldly and brazenly defile the   pardon that nature gave us, that voids us from the laws she has set up. She has only granted two other organisms this ability, which is every bit literal as can be understood. But we, the human race, are special. We have something different, a central data processor. Most would say a brain, but just about every organism has some form of brain, with the exception of viruses. Most people would refer to it as a conscience, “I,” or “soul”. Trying to describe the connection between the mental and physical aspects of the soul and brain stretches the extent of human comprehension, so I will leave that to collage scholars.

      But overall idea of happiness is never lost, unless if it is realized, which was bore onto thy back. The ability to have the inability to have the ability to have the inability is more like an inability than ability. It is obvious that the previous sentence is more complex than necessary, although the meaning is more profound when displayed in this way. The message, though and though, more important than most people can understand, or want too for that matter.