Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Warm-Gooey Center

Admittedly, I write better when I am less than happy, whether that be annoyed, hurt, angry, sad or anything else.  I suppose it is because I write to free my soul and rid my mind of useless things that outweigh the good.  Hmmm... why is it that guilty and frustration sink to the pit of your gut, yet happiness floats.  Since it floats, it also more easily floats away.  Of course, that's not to say that I am not a happy person by nature.  I just don't tend to write happy things.  Maybe that comes off as bitter.  But I'm not, not at all.  While recently perusing my page at, I came across the poem found below.  Instantly, I was reminded of all that is wonderful in life in general and in my life in particular.  Everyone has their own sense of things. Happiness is judged differently by each individual.  This is colored by circumstance, emotion, and perception among countless other factors.  Though what makes us happy varies greatly, happiness is just that, happiness.  Once achieved, it is a wonderful thing.  Now, if only it wasn't so fleeting.

So Very Thankful

Don't want to cry
But it can't be helped
All semblance of control is lost
Memories are overwhelming
The good is amazing
Blessings duly counted
So far away from a planned path
Guided by the unknown to the present
Gifted in so many ways
What is lacking is irrelevant
It is all in the mind
There is much love in this place
There is just enough of everything
Warm and happy
Never alone and endless "sugars"
Not perfect, never perfect
But perfect enough for me

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