Unusually insightful, in one of my PhD chapters I say:
'Happiness is often defined as expectation or as a fleeting state of mind that, like trance, can only be identified retrospectively. History and horror, as well as their combinations, share the same elusive quality as happiness: they are not experienced, they are remembered in a fashion that is both clean and detached because life may only be understood retrospectively but must still be lived forward'.
Press pause on the crinkling leaves, on the orange, low sun, on the contemplation of freedom, on the blend of insecurity and certainty, on the thrill of novelty and the fear of it, on the decaying of what does not happen anymore and it is like it never happened. Pause on the trees, on the wind, on the rain, on the coffee and the books and the pen, pause on self-doubt and self-righteousness, on impatience, on patience, on holding back and on hope. Pause right here, in a limbo that is so very happy, for once not just remembered but finally experienced.