mid book interlude
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What is it to be happy, truly? Maybe for those few seconds when the two boys drifted into nightmare infested sleep happiness would surface as weak smiles crept onto chapped lips . Yet we still ask ourselves; how long does it last? How long does the haven of another persons arms keep you happy? They can say, not for long. As the pressure of the ones around us and ourself wears down the enamel that is two persons love, it wears down the amount of love we can give away. People spend every second of their lives saying that, yes I'm happy, but who believes it? The younger boy spends his nights wishing he could change things and the older gazing at the younger wishing, hoping, pleading, "Baby just get through one more night." And every evening when they return to the one-roomed home they've created knowing that it won't last; they won't last. But if saying was believing then goddamn they were going to shout until their throats bled. Both boys knew they weren't going to get out of the hell that is the mind together. Everyone knows, but nobody really knows. They were all the two had left in the lives they cling to. So I guess there is no answer to what happiness really is. You find it in small amounts and use it as a drug. It's our addiction, the more we use the more we need and then we just stop looking one day and take a second to look back. Back at the trail of the burning city we tore apart for our own needs. But at least we were happy, right?
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that was really jumpy did it even make sense
