In my views of happiness, I can recall times where I was happy, then I can try to break it down from there. When I was a young boy I used to love looking outside the widows, even till today, and whenever I looked out side I would see trees swaying in a distance as if calling me to play outside. I can remember my teacher calling my name when ever I looked outside, pestering me to learn my ABC’s, at the time, I always gave her the same response “I already know how to count.” I would laugh, the face she would always give me whenever I said such a peculiar thing made her question something, either I should stay in 1st grade or go back to kindergarten, I got left back and took 1st grade again. The little things of my yesteryears always made me happy and fill with joy, even today the little things make me happy but now I want to know what are these little things and how do they effect my everyday life.
In my early teens year, around 14 -16, me and my friends would always hang out, usually around the park and just ran after each other with rocks, sticks, mostly anything sharp. Every day I would walk past the park and remember all the funny things we had done. There is one specific day I remember, I had a huge argument with my father, I decided to storm out. No place to go, my friends decided to hangout with me, to kill time until my father cooled off. This memory brings happiness to me in a sense of comfort with the perfect strangers. In reality I don’t really know them enough to come say they’re people you can trust your life with, but at that moment I felt comfortable around these 3 perfect strangers. My father and I eventually talked it out.
Whenever I would stay home alone I would watch anime, play games but mostly draw. I’m no amazing artist but when ever I say a blank piece a paper my imagination would just flow out of my head and onto a piece of paper. It was as if each line I put was speaking to me, a symphony lines coming together to create such a novel, only those who can see it can only understand its beauty. Once I was done with one I would always tell my self “No, not good enough, more details.” I wasn’t only molding my drawing but my imagination by making them more vivid with each sketch. The progress of my sketching would always make me happy, to see my hard work finally paying off would make me realize my future is getting brighter and brighter.
Coming home from a long day of work and just laying down would always knock me out. I would always have this same occurring dream whenever I feel down or really tired. Running to a certain place or person, this person would always grab my hand and ask me if I was hungry. Before I could reply this person would shush me and say “I know just the place.” We would always go to this dinner and eat waffles with syrup and butter. It felt as if this certain being knew my every thoughts and whims in their hearts. It felt sort of nostalgic, in sense that my sister would always take me out to eat and order me a specific meal after a dental check up. Tears running down face over the fact of me not wanting to go to the dentist in the first place, my sister would comfort me with her words and make my tears change to weeping and then gone. Her hands warming my cold ones, this made me happy, someone caring for me when no one else can at the moment would bring a tear to my eye. I am blessed with a wonderful family.
I don’t like to read, it’s something I find no joy in, or so I thought until I picked up a book called Fahrenheit 451. This book opens my eyes on what is happiness. This man Montag was not happy with his dull life, so then he starts to read books in a society that burns and kills such acts. He realizes that he’s missing something in life and doesn’t come to realize such a thing till he runs into a women name Clarisse. She opens his eyes to a much more beautiful society we once lived in and that reminds me of my own life story. A piece of his life reminds me a piece of mine and that bring me joy, to compare a mans life or moment to mine. This man felt so lost and couldn’t seem to understand why, what was his problem? His deal with this society? His moments brought in the story on how heroic he can be with the books, how much of change man he is now and fighting not to go back to that dull Guy Montag he once was. This book truly brought happiness to me in a sense of a man wanting to stand up for something he believes in, in his society. Anyone can change the world, it just the action that will trigger the domino effect.
Now days, something that makes me happy or glade to be around is the music. I love to just sit down and listen to music that speaks about my mood but some songs I carry with because they bring memories of hard times or fun times. A song I listen to is Candles by Daughter, saying she can’t be this persons lover and claiming that she only brought the comfort of love but was never really love just warmth. I can remember listing to this when my ex and me girlfriend broke up. Yet this brought happiness, it taught me that not everything is forever but that don’t mean you should look at the glass half empty but rather half. I thought of all the happiness she once gave me and now that I am alone the memory comforts me, they bring warmth to my head.
The ideas of my happiness is simple, the little things in my life bring the happiness and with it memories, that I will take to the bitter end. It is either I taking a walk to the nearest train station, taking the R all the way to Jay Street, closing my eyes along the way and feeling the train rocking me to sleep is just the happiness I need, until I have wake up so I won’t miss my stop. Happiness is the memories I have made with people that have either touched my heart with their warmth or stories. Many have different perspective of happiness and I see it as a moment in time that sticks out to you and brings a sort of a nostalgic feeling whenever that memory comes up. I cant help but to reminisces of these times in my head and just fall back and just remember every little detail that I can, now that’s happiness in my head and eyes.