I tend to kid myself sometimes thinking im happy. Thinking I have what it takes to be happy for a while. I forget I ve been told all my life that Im bitter.That I cant smile, that I ve never learned to laugh. Do you remember the story about the little girl that couldnt tell a joke and how sad it was suppossed to be and how terrible it seemed. I can't remember where it was, a movie a book a show..can you? been strugling my brain.
Its not that I cant be happy, I can. You make your own happiness. Each person is responsible for their own hearts. These are the small truths that I live by.
I once said, this book fills me up with nostalgia. You said, more? She said she was sad but not quite..i thought, its called nostalgia, its my regular state of mind. Just to make her point here is her depressive friend again, showing up at my mirror in the mornings. Hope to have her gone home by this week.

Any way, Ive been reading a precious book. A tree grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith, fisrt published in 1943!! So pretty..I ve only read 100 pages but so far, I recomend it hands down. Also, Penelope with Cristina Ricci and James McAvoy. It is also a book, new on the list. Another one, The red scarf, if you want to read about love, simple like that. Not romance, but love. Gorgeous plus, they call each other comrad!!