What we want then is language that grows out of experience and articulates it, language intermediate between self and world, their intersection, carrying knowledge of both, knowledge charged with valuation and instruction.
Happiness is a way of acknowledging your inherent hopelessness in the face of death. It is the first gasp of air you breath in once you have come out of the depths of despair. Conscious of the inevitable existence in a physical universe and the dreary wait that it entails, and yet without any deliberate motive to end it, you simply don't despair. Death inflicts happiness.
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