even if it sometimes sucks a little.
or blows a little.
cuz usually it's just soft and warm and loud and invigorating and comfortable and satisfying and rowdy and lucious and lewd and naive and free.
there are people who are like me on the inside, and there are people whose souls, if they were printed out on paper, in full color, with 3 dimensions would scare the shit out of me, or make my jaw drop so low i'd trip over it, or fill me up with such wild love that i'd want to crawl inside them and look out at the world through their eyes.
being happy, being truly happy, is the greatest gift on this earth.
the hope of it is what gets us by when it's missing, and gets us through the month long nights, when they come.
and the happiness itself makes the rest of it real, gives the other parts of life their station, their proper place.
the happiness feels like it'll last forever.
stars in the sky, clouds of breath in the air, snow covered mountains towering above.
life is beautiful.