It’s been so long since I wrote like this. I think it is much easier to write whenever I’m feeling down or sad. There’s so much beauty in misery that translating it to literature becomes a masterpiece.

But it is hard for me to write about happiness. And I wonder why. 

How could a celebration of joyous moments stops you from telling the tale? 

I guess the heart wants to keep the good ones more than the bad ones.