There are some days where it's easy to be made happy while some days where it's hard.
I think I shift in and out of these phases which is why I'm happy on some days and not so happy on some.
Being made happy is all relative, I reckon.

For example, on days where I'm wistful and nostalgic, hoping and expecting, I find it a lot harder to be happy because nothing is where I want it to be.
Perhaps it has been attained on some levels for some things, but not all, and being one who lives on hope and expectation, I don't find that my life is very satisfying at all.
I look at the moon, I look at photos, I look at scraps of paper and I feel my heart sink just that little bit more.

Then on some days where I'm just grabbing on to whatever I can, I find it a lot easier to be made happy.
Like eating childhood ice creams and drinking hot chocolate over good conversations has the ability to make me go all warm and fuzzy inside, thinking that things can only go better from here.
I look at the moon, I look at photos, I look at scraps of paper and I feel the corners of my lips lifting a little.

So on some days I'm the former and on some days I'm the latter, which probably explains why my mood swings just that little bit too often.
And every morning, before I open my eyes, a little jolt runs through me as I wonder what kind of day is it gonna be?
Is it going to be one where nostalgia and secret longings are manifested in me all day, or one where I'll cruise through just smelling the flowers and letting them run through the wind?

And it's during those 20 minutes where my eyes are still sewn shut but my mind is frantically running between consciousness and subconsciousness, that I'm fervently praying and choosing and hoping and feeling very much like a muddled mess.
Then as the day passes, I evaluate my day and my feelings and sort them out and feel my little progresses or setbacks day by day.

Which has led me to deduce that I'm never really very happy but I'm never really sad.
And when you think about it, it's quite pathetic isn't it?

I don't know how to be the eternal optimist but neither do I dwell in festered misery.
Most of the time, I feel like a little pendulum bob swinging in between the two; and as time passes, I slow down and settle down; down the middle.

Which makes me feel very displaced, indeed.