happiness..?

I guess I am slow... I just figured something out yesterday.  You can say "duh" if you want.

I was walking down the street after work yesterday, just walkin' with a huge smile on my face, looking at the gorgeous Provo winter mountains, and I think I must have looked happy.  I was happy.  It was the happiest I have been in a long time.  Something shifted or something lifted (cryptic, I know.  Sorry.  But not sorry enough to clarify haha).  While I was being happy, I got a couple of big smiles from other people.  In fact, I could see one girl, out of the corner of my eye, watching me the entire time we were getting closer and closer to each other on the sidewalk.  Right before we passed, our eyes met and she gave me a big smile and a really happy "hello."

Oh my gosh.  Really?  People like happy people?

And I wondered why it was hard for me to make friends...

That was yesterday.  I am trying super hard to have that outlook on life that is one of constant looking out to others and constant focus on "happiness."  It gets kind of hard sometimes.  Like when I go to school sometimes, I start to hate people.  I hate that people are so confused and then they pretend they aren't and then propagate stupid, confusing (confused) theories and philosophies.  Thank goodness that every time I am reeling, tripping and jumping and dodging theories flying through my mind I always have a base to come back to.  What is the base?  Simply this- Heavenly Father.  Jesus Christ.  Faith.  Repentance.  Baptism.  The Gift of the Holy Ghost.  And Enduring to the End.  These are a constant in the face of everything, everything else, because everything else changes.

I now shift gears quickly.  Here is my stream of consciousness from this morning.  I don't know how much longer this will last haha.  I am already kind of bored of it.  I will have to maybe try a new way of approaching it...

Set your sights to swinging- I can't take much more of this lack of being. You just get younger and younger until you forget about justice and the dead side of the road starts to crack and become warped by a sort of smoky silt. Little pepper grains of dust sit and rise and sit and rise with the vagrant wind. Why do you keep going and sitting down on the side of the road? Spending the last five years in a dusty dawn and wrapping yourself in a cloud of soot is certainly bringing you no closer to the freeway.
So the jumping bears and the sad clowns came and waved. We spent years just watching them play their games. We followed them, walking the side of the road, until we came to manhattan. We knew we had found something like a home because the raised hats waved us in. All the crowds in manhattan were not jumping bears or sad clowns. They all had faces and hands and mouths. Their performances were tireless and pure. The spectrum was in decibels of love.