Each and everyday the thought of happiness comes to mind. My lack of and its existence. What is happiness?

Some pursue it like it’s a trophy to be won after a competition. Some are born with it, and somewhere deep in the forest of life it’s taken from them. Some just have it.

I wasn’t too deep in the forest when it was beaten outta me. I tried to hold onto it, but the isolation had me questioning the point of it. Survival was the mission.

The pursuit of it left me wondering of its existence in my life again. Joy comes and goes. Not enough to get back what was traumatically torn from me.

Survive is all I feel. Get with the program is all I do. Monotony is all I know. Joy is a reminder that happiness may never come.