If you can be happy in January, you can be happy in June.
From January 2014.
I am building up a fortress of small happinesses, constructing a palace of particular pleasures that apply only to me.
I am being thoroughly, luxuriously selfish, and utterly relishing in it. I am sleeping late, dreaming large, lingering in loungewear, dressing down to go out, dating none, entrancing many, exploring new worlds, buying plants.
I am laying a foundation of memories, a pillowy buffer that pushes the past further from my mind. I am me! I am finally, actually, truly me! I make plans and keep them. I’m early. I go home when I’m sleepy. I read a novel and no one interrupts me. I meet likeminded people. I plan adventures.
I am collecting cavernous moments.
I wander alone and alive, in awe at the plain majesty of this city, of this world.