You don't have any rights to make other people feel that you go when people are happy. Dear Celebration, I'm sorry I haven't allowed you in my house. I don't like having you around when everybody around me is hurt. The world is ending and I'm happy. When the world wasn't ending, I wasn't happy. It's as if I'm celebrating misery of this world, you know? The therapist says, I am punishing myself for a crime I didn't commit. So here's to trying. I've made room for you now. I promise to feel you when I finish work, when I pass exams, when I drink enough water and write corny poems.
