at what point does the little moments and nuggets of happiness in your life deserve to be spread out to encompass the whole lot of it? when does a version of happiness become the sum of its parts? who decides what happiness looks like for each of us? how are you experiencing said happiness, on a physical level? emotional? mental? astral? who are we when we are happy? does joy live inside of us, or is it just a visitor? is it contingent on people? things? if so, why? does happiness come a lot easier when you’re younger? does it come a lot easier when you’re older? if what brought you goosebumps was bottled to sell, would other people buy it? would you care? do you ask yourself if you are happy, often? if not, will you start?