Our stories did not begin to end. Every day we have a story, tales, and narratives. Past experiences have filled our hearts with their sorrow to toughen us, and we tasted their bitterness for the benefit of those who follow. Our souls also delighted in the purity of their joys that flowed through our veins like balm, refreshing and invigorating like dew.

We sting with their sweetness, carrying the banners of great victory, striving to join the caravan of eternal, absolute happiness. Behind its dark doors, the beautiful morning lights always shine, announcing better new beginnings and fresh stories spreading their scent through the corridors of our life-loving hearts. We open up to their breezes, gather our crumbling strength to appear stronger. We recklessly turn our pages, our sheets flying after we have written feelings and dates of events that may not be of much importance. However, their situations have touched something within us, or created a fracture, we were unaware of their essence at the time, but now, having understood more than we once wished to, life revealed its crookedness and lack of chivalry to us. We fought with it, with victory or oblivion before our eyes.

We drag our stories, exaggerating what we like and blurring what does not please our hearing. We share our terrestrial epics, despite the difference in the tools and weapons that we adorn, our wounds are shared and our pains are similar, just as our human characteristics are similar despite our different human natures.

We strive to arrange and mend our tales by picking up the scattered pieces from the table of our ideas, which narrows until we cannot find an outlet to place a small pen. Suddenly, it expands until cosmic spaces do not suffice, dominating our present and burning the future. These are our painful experiences that chase us, disturbing our peace and hindering our progress. Despite their ragged clothes, they still invade our minds like a Trojan horse, reminding us of the past. We return to our steps after being besieged by its fears, placing imaginary barriers before us that confirm its bogus strength. The eternal truth keeps repeating; we agree on some of its facts, disagree on many, but each of us has dominating truths that keep us hostage to the terror of its probabilities. We get lost in its calculations and scatter at its mention, remaining prisoners of its walls that we build with our own hands. Even Newton could not measure its force or the scale of its destruction, although it is charged with emotions and feelings, its physical mass has no weight in his scales. But when will these toxic accumulations stop, and when will we get rid of these scattered remains? The answer might be simple when we put the past in its rightful place as a past experience and beneficial lesson. It is merely a memory that visits us, we should not give it value by repeating it, lest it control us. We can completely ignore it, as we are responsible for our lives and its events. Since you realize the difficulty of reality, I will not deceive you with these sterile words, as there is no way to detach ourselves from everything that has passed. What happened will remain engraved unless you confront and accept it, forgive those who wronged you, adapt to its atoms, and move beyond its states.

Therefore, let us believe, without a shadow of a doubt, that happiness is a decision derived from our experiences that have fortified us with determination that no situation can disappoint, and a resilience that no past can break and no present can cloud. Because we understand that the darkness of oblivion is a blessing that only the great achieve, we will not start the battle of the past and the present, lest we lose the future that will soon become the present. We don't want to be great as much as we want to be happy. There will be no beautiful endings to all our stories if our new beginnings are not present.