If happiness is a choice, why would any one choose to be unhappy? If miserary is not a choice, why some one could get out of there while others could not? If happiness is a goal, which the whole world and the whole human being, and each of our whole life is chasing after, why so few people actually "get it"? Perhaps happiness is like a butterfly, you could rarely capature it by running after it, you just have be there like a flower, live vividely and being beautiful, be there and butterfly will fall upon you. It would fell so lightly, that you could bearly feel its arrival until it kicks off. We seldom know we are happy, at the moment of happiness, we are like a flower busy blossoming, absorbing wholely in the shake of air, in the blow of wind, in the kiss of sunshine, in life itself. We don't realize we were happy, until we were lesser happy or became misery, than we look back at the fleeting moment and saw: Aha, I was so happy. Happiness is a history, it's always in past tense when it comes to recognization. Sometimes we have this far intuitive feeling, certain moments in life we feel life is so fulfilled, like a ballon filled with air, that we could almost fly, then either the baloon go off your hand suddenly, or it burst off while you had seized it too hard. Happiness is not to be found, but remembered, not chased, but arrived.