Happiness

Happiness is that when you finish previewing Am. Lit and Poetry and still have time to read Stephen King and Facebook in the air-conditioned library at the hot, humid summer night.

Ah, and a Marlboro Menthol and a can of Coke!

Happiness is scoops of vanilla ice-cream with a self-made topping of honey on muesli.
Happiness is that when you have a mouthful of those dancing elements...

Happiness is that when you find someone you can smoke with. Both silently but still share some parts of your lives.
Talking is not really necessary since the serenity fills all content...

Happiness is a memory which is not so special, but whenever you think of it
under the midnight stars or falling twilight, or
wherever you think of it, maybe standing on the earth of another continent,
counting shooting stars of different universe---
it still can lighten your heart and bring you smiles.

Not a laughter but a simple, plain smile which echoing inside your mind.
A silent but powerful laughter, so hearty that for a second or so, you think they also smile under the foreign sky.

Happiness is a bench beside a lake.
Dusk polishes its waves and you find shelter under trees' shades.
Happiness is that when you see mottled sunlight reddens your skin
and lake breeze easily brushes your fringe.

And you think of the new pack of Marlboro napping at its menthol corner,
friends you once smoked with together on the bench of another universe,
and you watched the sunshine friendly dry your sweaty hands.

The iron part of the lighter glittered and reflected yourselves on each others' shades.
You smiled and  thought it was happiness---
the moment you want it to stay forever
and ever
and ever.

Happiness is... that moment.