Don't read if you wish to smile!

Tie me up. Tape my mouth, sack me in a gunny bag and throw me over the wall of a bridge. I swear to the lord, I will not utter a squeak to voice disapproval of an act as benevolent as this. Tear me to shreds and I will oblige. Kick my soul till it dies in me. I deserve no more than a dead soul. Look for my brain, if you find it, look for the part that has some dreams stored in it and pull it out. Now hunt for the memories of a past day or even a year. Please remove it and destroy it so no one can find out how happy I was (and in effect, prove my potential of being happy even now). Use a pair of tweezers if you like, but pick out the little remains of smile from my face, my eyes or even my forehead. Every time I smile or have smiled, I have been on a secret mission. Undercover, if you will. I was told to blend in, to mix into the crowd and look for secrets hidden behind those very smiles. I know they are all disguises. Sometimes the mirror too, lies. I don’t want to be a part of that mission anymore. I have become one of them… pseudo-artists. Masters of the ‘you-will-not-find-me’ clan. The year always ends on a note that jolts me out of reality, or into reality, I don’t know which. I want to slink away in my couch and watch life on a fourteen inch screen. Somehow that is more believable than what I see around me. Every day there is more bright lies and brighter smiles to cover the lies and I hate wearing the glares on the last day of the year. Every bloody year.

Have a lovely new year all ye unfortunate ones who read this disturbing piece, while I find my remote control and bag of chips. Well, Titanic is a good movie after all.