Take That, Happiness!

A few weeks back, I posted a thing I wrote long years ago about finding myself in a state of happiness. This is a piece I wrote immediately preceding that one. The happiness essay was, I believe, written as a defiant gesture to the following:

There's a frightening precariousness about equilibrium, and the longer the equilibrium continues, the more frightening and precarious it seems. Because happy creative equilibrium is not highly advertised as a possibly constant state. Tripping merrily along the top rail of the most beautiful and loveliest of fences can only end in tripping off of it sooner or later, and the later it gets, the sooner the fall.

I even find myself trying to trip myself up. At least I'd be in charge of the fall. But I suspect the only way to upset myself will be to finally accept this happiness, assume it to be a constrant, make it necessary and precious to me, and the Norns will at last turn their eye my way. That's what terrifies me. Someday being caught unaware.

The happiness essay ends with the follow-up: Reader, I divorced him.

I showed happiness a thing or two.