Music and a few words, philosophy, trivialities, rights, freedoms, ironies and love is always love, to say about happiness.

Of happiness it is said: brief moments; revelations, poems; nonsense; paths less traveled; with luck, constellations of small nothings in the same day. The sudden solidarity of an unknown person, the tranquility of a forest at the end of the afternoon, the dizziness after looking at a painting in the corner of the gallery, that moment when the right amount of alcohol happens on the dance floor, the intimacy of a conversation in a low voice in a hotel lobby, the silence of a quiet street on a foggy night, songs sung at the top of their lungs in a car full of people, the sea the sea, a shiver of cold down the spine, butterflies in the belly, dreams, promises , collective demonstrations, imagined futures on a walk hand in hand at night.

Of happiness, or how to achieve it, Seneca tells us that we must choose the path well, because the better known and more frequented the path, the greater the risk of being adrift. A jump, then, listening to the soul and flying, without fear of elves, amazement or emptiness, between affinities and intuitions, between songs and stories, and which reminds us of the happiness of being together, of those indescribable moments of connection in that the duration of time is lost and we wander between its rings.

Of happiness or the importance of other spaces to imagine these other futures, which we still cannot verbalize.