A Piece of Paper

We cannot determine when we will be happy, and vice versa. The only thing we can control is how we go through it.

Sitting alone. The sound of the fan and music competing. In front of the screen, reluctant to be looked at. Accidentally, the wallet opened. There, a photo was seen. Without waiting any longer, a hand reached for it.

There were four photos in one frame. Her face was smiling, sweetly. From her, happiness rises, and to her, happiness returns. A line of her smile and her eyes are the eraser of all fatigue. Now and forever, life is for her. For her happiness. She is the estuary of all stories.

Thank you for being the reason for this self to keep trying. Thank you for being born into this world.

Thank you for all the happiness.

Written in Banjarmasin @ terjebakkopi, at 16:03, March 1, 2024

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