What Does Happiness Mean To You?

There was something about my childhood that I often ponder: how happy I was. I didn’t know how this worked, food wasn’t in abundance and I didn’t have the luxury my children have today but I had a very happy and fulfilled childhood. I didn’t have a variety to choose from. Basic food, clothing, free air, paid water, lousy and nosy neighbours were all part of my happiness. The yearly trips to the countryside to see my grandmother and my cousins constituted my childhood happiness.

Quite often I listened to the dreams of adults around me, but they were quick to celebrate their little achievements and work harder to achieve more basic goals. I saw my mother break down many times over her struggle to make ends meet and I was part of the many hungry faces around but I never experienced the emotion associated with overwhelming sadness.

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The Prisoners Of My Mind

Right in the hollow of my mind, where the darkness loomed a prison was built. Its purpose was to capture and torture. In this prison, prisoners were in chains and their chance of escape was slim.

The majority of the inmates had served their time and walked to freedom through the open gate. Others were not so lucky, they remain locked up, they served time with no numbers.

Every time my feeling was touched, an arrest took place. I played a victim card. I was the one who hurt the most. The one whose right was infringed. The victim whose wound never healed. However, the space of this prison was minute, it wasn’t big enough for the number of daily arrests.

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