For the Unloved
Para akong sinaksak ng malaking kutsilyo sa aking dibdib nang marinig iyon sa kaniya.
Napagtanto kong. Mahirap pala talaga.
It's really hard to be happy.
I've realized that happiness is weird. Like, conceptually. That it's something we expect from people—that is, we expect people to be happy. And that when people are unhappy, we assume they're doing something wrong.
Over the past two years or so, I've experienced some extended bouts of severe unhappiness. Through those depressive periods, in the moments I've seen clearly, I've tried to tweak the tweakable materials of my depression.
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