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The frogbutt of happiness: on how to be happy, or even know you're happy, or care about it anyway. None of this matters.

This morning's grocery take, stop the presses here, I hit the magazine rack, and found a deluxe edition magazine format publication:

how to be happy.

This is something, I say, of all the theories, the philosophy, the life-hacks, the nuisance productivity crap, even spreadsheets of habit-tracking and so forth, comes a magazine that...

...does it?...

..finally answer the question.

how to be happy.

I remember being happy watching a television show.  About old lawn tractors.

I remember being happy.  NCAA Women's Volleyball.

I remember being happy taking a taste of Bud Light.

Once even, I bought a big old cassette recorder and spoke into it, sort of a podcast before even America Online, myself dictating notes on a future written work; the happiness of creation, and one thinks, God as a Creator, no wonder much that he loves us, but the extent itself is a wonder.

Godzilla eating a horse.  And speaking of which, there was a meme of Godzilla eating the Little Mermaid.  I'd so like to retell the old story of the Little Mermaid; she was in chronic pain and torment, such that she forsook her princely lover and drowned herself in the surf, as she was zonked out of her gourd in severe pains.

how to be happy.

The real question: how much will this sh*t cost me?

And a follow-up: will it mean I have to actually do something?

What if chit chat with Lesbians was like kissing a glass window of a storefront?

Perhaps it is, happiness has something to do with mindfulness, and vice versa, such that we wonder which came first, and we can go in great circles tracing a singular path to that initial point on the spectragraph, we can go mad and consume our days in a search; but that too, a kind of happiness in purpose, and at worst, something to keep you going, something to live for and work towards.

What if the very purest answer to the riddle of life had been published already, some years prior, in a work that went largely ignored?  Such as to say, we don't a reason, but instead, a purpose in it's place; why, give us an identity, sure, but such is transitory and vaporous, for after all, what's in a name, but just something to turn your head towards something, and what's in a reason, but a justification, and we don't generally even rise to that level anyway, of being "justified", but only a select few, a hair crosswise, underwear bunched and lips twisted in a sneer.

I suspect the real fact is that we've been happy many times in our life, and we didn't realize it until was over, therefore perhaps happiness is first, then mindfulness, then process, a concerted concentration effort to replicate the thing that we had in fact only dumbly stumbled across before.

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