Happy happy happy. I look around and all I see is happy. All I hear is happy and all I touch is happy. But all I feel is cold. Desolate coldness in the midst of happiness and I wonder why I cannot feel happy? Why I cannot emulate happiness or simply “fake it til I make it”. Because all I feel is an emptiness than continues to consume all that I am. And this emptiness is all that I’ll ever be. A human body driven by passions and desires but insensitive to the rejoicing feeling of fulfillment. Because all I am is empty. And all I’ll ever be is an empty carcass that cannot bear to bear happiness, as all that can fill me is my overbearing emptiness.