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Happiness...

Granite1

Zercron Encrusted Tweezer
Dec 27, 2010
7,147
7,175
Pittsburgh, PA
The pitter patter of little feet on hardwood flooring.

Children laughing, even if they aren't my own.

Legos.

Not stepping on Legos.

Seeing someone truly enjoy something, their smile.

Watching my wife become more beautiful every day.

The smell of campfire, and the fishing hole where I grew up.

My children, my immortality, my reason for being.



What is your happiness?
 
The pitter patter of little feet on hardwood flooring.

Children laughing, even if they aren't my own.

Legos.

Not stepping on Legos.

Seeing someone truly enjoy something, their smile.

Watching my wife become more beautiful every day.

The smell of campfire, and the fishing hole where I grew up.

My children, my immortality, my reason for being.



What is your happiness?

the bike starts up first kick after a rebuild.

Nothing from the IRS in the mail.

20 year old single malt

The doctor says nothing is broken or leaking

All of my X's lost my email addy.
 
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- Knowing that no matter how cloudy and dark it can get sometimes, the Sun is always up there somewhere.

- Those memories of the kids.. the monkey bars and bikes, the birthday shopping, the school activities and sports for them.. a thousand other things, some said by my friend in the OP.

- My wife. I love her so.
 
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Happiness is all of those things that we take for granted.
A healthy family, a reliable job, a trustworthy spouse, quiet nights at home watching tv while the kids do homework, or play their music too loud.
I always believe the old saying that "no news is good news".
When life is quiet and predictable, we should enjoy it more.
You WILL miss it when any part of it is gone.
 
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If there is 1 thing... that would make me smile...something I have wanted since I don't know when... then it has got to be this:

FPT13302-dh-grey-pony.JPG

But if there is 1 thing that I want more than anything... anything I could ever dream of... it is just some sanity.

Just a little bit... small... tiny bit.

Just a bit.

I just ask for some.

Not much at all.

Not for mountain loads that go as far as the eye can see.

Just a bit... just a little bit of a hill for me.

just a little mound...

People don't realize how vital that is.

That is what I need.

I need it.

I crave it...

Sanity.

I need it like I need air.

And to me:

Sanity = Happiness.

Simple.

I could be the richest most successful man 10 000 times over and I could still be borderline insane and miserable like I am at times.

No jokes.

There is an extremely depressed and even worse disturbing side to me.

DISTURBING

I have been told I am scary ... freaking scary.

Yes.

That may be true.

Happiness to me is overcoming the struggle of madness.

My mind jumps like lightening.

Never consistent.

God being consistent would make me very happy.

I am never here...I am no longer here... I am over "there" some where over that hill...

I am never "here"... I am always over "there" on another planet mining corn flakes... talking to the roaches... climbing the empire state building on a cliff...

I am always dreaming but never doing.

Never do anything about it.

And then the struggle with reality begins again and I hit concrete.

And so not much gets done at all again... ever.. I hate my out of control imagination.

It is dangerous, but the scary part is... it is so hard to control.

It must be impossible.

I am never here.

Never.

I can be in a room filled with a 10 000 people and feel totally alone and be all alone on an island and happy like no other.
 
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Seeing my beautiful grandsons, who live out of state.

Seeing my beautiful daughter again...for the first time since our Mom/Grandma died in March. (EDIT: I actually forgot that my daughter and I hooked up in Palm Springs in May. I guess this year has been more overwhelming than I realized...forgetting seeing my daughter...I don't know what to say...)

Hearing the pitter-patter of my six rescued cats, and watching them play and lounge and act cute and lovable.

Sitting outside on my patio, looking at my yard filled with flowers and fruit trees--all year round--and being grateful I'm home in California .

Seeing the San Gabriel Mountains from my windows and yard every day.
 
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Sunday morning. Backdoor to the yard is open, the sun is shining. Drinking coffee, fully enjoying the breakfast dear made for me (every single sunday morning since the day we met over eleven years ago), the radio is playing in the background competing with the birds singing outdoors. Dear, across the table, is reading me bits and pieces from the newspaper and online news.
Telling dear an anekdote of a thing that happened to my bro and me when we were young (he passed away 2 years ago). I found myself telling it laughing, having a happy memory of him instead of crying for one of the first times again.
Yeah. I'm happy.
 
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