I thought about the 101 reasons to be happy, and suddenly I was not happy. I thought about all the things that could happen that could break the streak. And the mere thought of it did it.
So thank you, J.K. Rowling, for saving me from real-life Dementors when they kissed my soul and sucked all the happiness out of me.
I don’t want to make love to you not because I am weak, but because I believe.
For a woman who has always considered herself as a strong human being, my reaction when my scalp was exposed to the bleach’s harsh chemicals was pretty lame. The original plan was to dye my hair gray, but I ended up with a blonde hair instead.
I know, because I’ve been there many times before. But unlike others who gave up, I lived to tell the tale.
I settled for the less physically painful, but it is the kind of pain that I would have to endure for the rest of my life. This is the kind of suffering preferred by the brave souls.
You can be satisfied but not happy, and that’s okay. Perhaps if we just focus on finding the meaning of life, we might have a shot at living a fulfilling one.