Neither happiness nor bliss can, in real life, be a self-perpetuating state.

If that were so, we would no longer relish it as such--we would have been so used to that euphoria so as not to 'welcome' it anymore.

  It's living in the rawness of life, with its mix of happiness and sorrows, its ups and downs, its success and setbacks, its laughter and tears,
that will best define our essentiality.

Poets and mystics tend to resort to high-sounding and over-wrought language/metaphors to get across their message but,
with impassioned circumspection,  it does not hold up to the light of reality.

Poor mortals as we are,  let's hope we are blessed by simple things and small does of joy -
if such were to come our way, we would have no reason to aspire for more.