On Being a Happy Person


To be free requires effort. To be happy requires skill.

I am a freedom artist.

I make serenity, passion, pleasure and faith look effortless. It is my daily act, my performance.

If you look closer, you will see that my spirit is bruised and trembles with the strain of holding itself aloft so beautifully in a world of heavy burdens. Misery, regret, fear, turmoil and shame weight me down so mightily, they leave gravity green-eyed.

I am free not like a bird flies but like a ballerina leaps.

When you see my brightness, know that it hides a small universe of shadows that work in dark costumes to arrange the stage of my life so that I may shine shine shine and astound you.

Do not mistake my exertion for a miracle. Do not mistake my lifetime of endless trying for a blessing.

To all those who see me smile and dismiss my joy as naive, my hope as ignorant, my faith as baseless… My darkness is a space deeper and vaster than you can imagine. My shadows could eat you alive. My abyss will gaze into you if you come near enough to see its reflection in my eyes.


To all those who see me rejoice, worship and pray, know this:

My happiness is not an easy thing for me to display. My passion is not effortless. I suffer for my freedom every day. I practice my liberation from my burdens for hours.

I leap for perfection, stroke its fulfilling breadth with a dainty hand then land, heavy-hearted elegance.

Sometimes, I fall. Sometimes, I break.

I wait. I heal. I grieve. I wake. I rise. I toil.

I am late for my let me show you who I am what I can do all I will be.

I run. I run. I run.

I catch up to myself.

I dance again.

Are you awed now? Do you recognize my skills now?

Do you see me?

Come closer. Here are front row seats to my performance of my existence.

Look keenly. You will see me breast the effort of holding my soul so high, it brightens your day and lights up your path (you ingrate). Look at me. You will see my soul’s sweat drip drip drip from my eyelashes.

Am I not brilliant in my craft? Am I not equally magnificent in my exertion to fabricate myself?

I am a freedom artist. I am a manifestor of dreams.

Admire the the fruits of my pleasure, Witness.



One response »

  1. When I claim to be a freedom artist, it is because I come from a place of oppression. I have known many lacks of freedom in my life and my most recent one is abject poverty.

    For those who are new to my life drama, I offer a summary:

    I have been homeless for over a month and a half now and I am fighting an uphill battle to end this situation. It has, unsurprisingly, proven quite hard to do such a thing. So I fight to fly free of the burdens weighing me down: lack of shelter, threat of hunger, looming disease, potential injury…

    I make it look easy. That is far from being the case.

    I know many people know how it feels to be struggling to achieve something difficult that seems easy, which is why I ask that all the people in my life – near or far, stranger or friend – recognize the truth of what it means to be homeless. I chronicle my journey so everyone will know but I also ask that those who wish to help lighten my burden go to my GoFundMe page where they’ll be able to make a donation to help me get a home of my own. Every bit helps not matter how big or small.

    If you want to go a step above and beyond or if you have no money to give – trust me, I get how it is to literally have no money at all you can spare – please share my blog with everyone you can and on every platform you use. A tweet, reblog or post is a valuable help to me.

    Thank you for donating your time and interest.❤ I appreciate it enormously and will be sure to pay it forward.


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