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.
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