Because I'm utterly deficient of it, happiness has been my usual focus of introspection during these past weeks. I usually imagine myself as an outsider, standing in the middle of a spinning universe, unable to participate, unable to appreciate the goods and bads of everything. I just stop and stare and get depressed about it.
Most people spend most of their lives pursuing happiness. A good friend once told me that people who think can never be happy because they attempt to understand its fleeting nature. Vainly, we try to freeze time for a moment to totally indulge in the sublime nature of happiness, and this ultimately leads to frustration and bouts of despair. Depressed introspective people, of which I'm a part of, sadly, will never be able to appreciate happiness wholly, because we know that the sensation will disappear as swiftly as it appeared.