Yes, I’m fully aware that this might sound creepy
and uncomfortable for some, but I still mean it. It fills me up with sunshine
all the while glee springs across my face, beaming out to the world in a look
that screams “I’m happy and I want to share it with you” – instant joyfulness
in a glance. Yay! Happy-happy-happy!
Now, the way you actually say it makes all the
difference – as proven when Joey Tribbiani makes “grandma’s chicken salad”
sounds just a little too dirty for his friends comfort – the voice can be a
powerful tool. Well, duh, you’re thinking, and you’re probably right in doing
so, because knowing something is easy but sometimes it’s JUST a little bit
trickier to actually do it. Hence, the smile – you’ve got the Joker and Pinkie
Pie using the same theme, but at oh so very different results. And that’s what
makes it all so fun – you’ve got lots to work with when it comes to smiling. So
yeah, I smile. I like to smile. I enjoy smiling. Now, this is the place I could
recite facts about how it makes the body healthier and the world a better
place, but I’m not going to do that. I’m merely going to SMILE!
And the best part of it is than then you’re least
expecting it, it sneaks across your lips and goes straight to your eyes, just
because something random goodness fell into your lap when you tried to remain
serious and was slightly tired and hadn’t slept well during the night.
Complications may arise, but the smile will still be there when you’re all
gloom and doom – gleam, gleam, gleam.
Also, I need new shorts. Short shorts. Like,
really short shorts. Like, mini skirt length short shorts, tight, possible with
the option of having stockings underneath… yeah, I’m going to need some new
shorts now. Blue, jeans, fit. Yes, I’ve got great legs, but I’m not trying to
flaunt them – not much, anyway – I mean, who doesn’t have some kind of issues
they’d rather not talk about in public?
There’s going to be a larp. A very special larpthat a dear friend of mine will host (I’m the co-host, nothing more),
raising some rather uncomfortable questions about life, death and existence.
It’s not going to be mush smiling done at that particular last supper, that’s
for sure, but it’s going to be another kind of fun.
So, there was a wedding last weekend. I spotted
what most likely was the bride, late at night, walking past with one guy behind
her – the groom, I assume – carrying her dress trailing. Now, the funny thing
was that there was two or three other guys – also in suits, dressed for the
wedding, I imagine – was, well, not singing, but loudly humming, an anthem.
You’d guess it’s the Here Comes the Bride – such a beautiful
work of Richard Wagner, by the way - but it was in fact the Imperial March. Oddly as it may sound, it didn’t fit terribly bad. Now, having heard
the anthem before I was able to even see the bride, I’m not really sure what I
expected – but I know for sure, it wasn’t that.
And now all I can think about is that if I’m
getting married I want the band to play the Imperial March at
my wedding.
How to end this particular sprout of positive
attitude? Here!
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