When something happens, it just happens.

Oh, what is this? What life of this time is this?

When something happens, it happens.

I don't know why it happens, I just see it happen.

It's the thing, without me knowing anything about it.

So happen many unexpected affairs in life ...
including, you know, really many things: of course my and everybody else's births and deaths, growing-up, competitions, and surely love affairs, finding some meaning in life, and just living up to these days.

Reaching some target I defined abruptly turns into a delusion,
then a torture, agonizing, trying to find another meaning, and something happens again ...

Some delight encountered in the way is no longer a happiness, it's becoming yet another happening.

What's this?