Except happy.

I'm forgetting what it was like before.
Who I was, how played my mind.
I have flashes, brief clips of memories,
But they're getting harder to find.
I even sometimes wonder,
If they are even real,
And not an image I projected,
To cover the 'really feel'.
In the time of statutory reflection,
In the time of look ahead,
I'm stuck for what to aim for,
Except happy, healthy and not dead.