  It festers and pouts. Gurgles and gapes. Then, it does all that some more. The realization of the fact that you are wounded, can be like a warm hand cupping your scrotum or the same hand crushing it to agony. The pain blinds and dictates. It gushes through you like the finest honey which flows within when your lips are kissed with truth and love.
Filling up every fibre with an elegant subtlety, only paralleled by it's magnanimity. And then. Then the honey turns sour. The eyes are filled with laughter but the soul is drowned in the mire. This duality represents life and perhaps death. I have seen it manifest in all things.
In myself. In nature. She said I am always unhappy. Maybe others classify this duality as unhappiness. Maybe I have never known happiness, so much that I cannot even recognize it. But, I sincerely do not think that it exists.
As neither does unhappiness. The whole phenomenon closely resembles a Non-Deterministic Finite automata. The begining and the end are always the same. Everything stems from within and ends there. The state of mind which is a manifestation of superficial/fictional reality is not the true state of mind. There is no description of the other.
It is for you and me to fathom. And abide by. And romance. 
