What makes me laugh? I sometimes struggle to recall. Joy isn’t as frequent a visitor of late. The world is dragging us all down, and I have pesky depression in addition. Mental illness sometimes makes me laugh. I’m allowed: I’m afflicted. Politicians make me laugh, but not in a friendly way. That laughter is less... Continue Reading →
I won’t be getting my happily ever after, at least not the kind that shows up in the romance novels I read and collect and have been devouring of late. I love those stories. It’s one of those secret things I wanted, a partner to grow old with and a big family. The lack thereof... Continue Reading →
I’m a sucker for a book with a happy ending. I prefer it when things work out the way they’re supposed to, and by supposed to I mean the main character gets what they want and all problems and challenges are resolved. You just know life goes on for the characters in a happy and uncomplicated way after the last page is turned. I know that it’s fantasy; I don’t care. I like the way I feel when everything turns out all right...
How many times have you uttered the cry, “I just want to be happy”? I’ve done it too many times to count. Truthfully, we might just as well wish we were a pineapple. We’re as likely to be successful. We engage in all kinds of behaviours we believe will make us happy. We chase it with everything in us. Ironically, sometimes the behaviours themselves end up making us miserable...
From Famine to Feast. 