I woke up to an article called something along the lines of “10 Ways You Can Tell If You Are Truly Happy Without Having To Actually Feel Anything, Really, Just Use Your Social Media Skills, Go On, We Know You Want To Because This Title Is Written Like This, Horribly Grammatically Wrong But So Tempting To Click On Am I Right?” or “Before I Read This Article I Never Would Have Believed I Was Happy Go Try It Out For Yourself Because You Want To Be Better Than Me Don’t You See I’m Playing With Your Insecurities”.
I thought, “I’m happy. But what if the internet could tell me that I’m right? That will be a good feeling.”
Turns out, the internet disagrees with me. Apparently, I am not happy. I guess I will stop smiling. It is hard though.
Last night I saw Daniel Kitson just tear up a room with almost nothing but improv. At one point I was focusing so much on how lucky and happy I felt to be watching him, that I forgot to watch him. Meta-happinesss. I then went out with Phill and Tim, who took me to a good kebab-place; something I have longed for since I moved here almost two years ago. I had claimed no good places existed – they proved me wrong. If this is not genuine happiness, I don’t know what is. Fuck you, website.
