You know how when you cry about something that is externally happy people say you’re crying tears of joy?  Well that’s a nice simplistic answer and it works well enough for the naïve child who’s world hasn’t been crushed by… well… his world, but those of us who’ve been here a while know better.  Tears simply do not come from anywhere but pain, and though you may not understand that it’s pain you’re feeling when your daughter walks down the aisle or your son holds his child for the first time, it is still pain all the same.  It’s a type of mourning for the small respite you are receiving from the otherwise cold, mundane, cruel and daunting world that most of us believe is special enough to continue on in. 

As a child, when you’re happy you don’t cry.  You smile, you laugh, and you jump up and down.  Find me a kid who starts crying upon opening up his brand new XBOX for Christmas and I’ll show you a future Goth teen who thinks listening to horrible music and wearing eyeliner makes them more in tune to the world. 

We don’t cry due to an overwhelming sense of happiness in our soul.  We cry because we know it won’t last very long.  And because we need it so very badly.

Every nugget of happiness in this life represents about twenty tons of shit that had to be sifted through in order to find it.  This is something that I believe in more than any sociopathic god.

And you want to know what’s really sad?  I’m pretty sure I’m one of the happiest people I know.