It’s funny how glitter doesn’t make me happy anymore, 
even when it is falling from the sky. At night sometimes,
you can see it better. But at night I am eating ice cream,
and it is covered with sprinkles, and they make me happy.
Sprinkles do something. Sprinkles do something to me.
Glitter does something, but I do not know what. One 
thing I know about myself is that I have to know what.
I have discovered what makes me happy. I do not know 
who makes me happy. Sometimes I think: if only I could 
meet the woman who first dreamt of sprinkles, at night.

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