In my twenty-eight years on Earth, I have yet to find where happiness is hiding. My life-long game of hide-and-seek with it has only produced the answers to where it is NOT. It is not inside anyplace that needs to be opened with a childproof lid. It is not concealed in the form of any liquid. You cannot roll it up.
If you have found it by looking in the mirror, good for you. I, however, have not found it hidden there for quite some time. I’ve searched between the sheets of more beds than I can count. Not there.
As a last ditch effort, I looked deep in the heart of The One I thought might possibly have been holding it hostage for all these years. It turned out all that was lurking there was the conclusion that maybe happiness isn’t hiding at all, but has instead, gone extinct. Now, all I can do is try copiously to resurrect it with ink.
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