Happy.

I don't seem to comprehend the insane joy of happiness.
Why must only happiness be glorified?
Why isn't pain, sorrow glorified as it must be?
Why must one run away?
Run away and Hide, like the little lollies and pleasure we seek - material, all of them- would last
And thus the joy turns into temptation.
Temptation to Addiction.
And you just can't seem to Let Go.
You think this gives you a high - an uplift to your sensory stimulae or is it just the numbness?
I can never tell.
But where is the joy? The happiness?
I thought joy was a heightened sensation. An internal state so complete, complex, so euphoric you cannot speak. Where everything seems beautiful, where you only want to see more beauty, where you only want the joy inside, out.
Where not the clichéd rosy, sigh, sigh, cotton candy strikes your heart.
But ultimate reality, what the world is strikes you and you are happy.
Not because you have something, gained something.
But because you are,
And you just are.
And that simple phrase makes you Happy.  

Happy?

So it's all a little rosy now.                                                                                                                      You're in your honey-combed bed of fawning over all things happening to you, of all people loving you.
And it's great.
It is just great
Like life has made sense 
And all the rippling sense of  clueless-ness and confusion has dissipated
Or has it just submerged? Submerged enough to be hidden.
Possibilities of its rise right around the corner
And suddenly this happiness seems like a drated phase. 
Meant to blow up joy. Meant to be-gone. Again.
One day.
I know I sound like I'm expecting tragedy to strike
Ready with my battle armor, unable to grasp the joy.
Live in the moment
that ridiculous one liner
But you know what's coming
You know this won't last forever.
Maybe it'll just make the jump.
A tad bit easier.