Happy

I've been thinking. No, really! Shocking I know. It hurt as well.

I might be what they call happy at the minute. But I don't like that word. I am in a positive mood, in a period of being grateful for being alive, for being alive in this exact place of location, time, and situation. And that sounds so slushy and silly, but it's true. I am smiling, I am laughing, and I love what is around me. But I guess we always need something to bother us, to stop us being satisfied. Satisfaction for me should only ever be a stepping stone. It is dangerous for me to become too comfortable, which I guess is why I always come across stuff that affects my satisfaction. But that's only ever one step away from bringing about a better life, by solving problems as they come, and moving upwards because of it. So who knows? What's negative often brings about change, into something more positive. This is rather incoherent isn't it?

Well, erm, Hello again to all the people I lost just there. That's what happens when I don't write in the third person! I just don't feel in touch with my third person, or my dative self, today. That's possibly a good thing, as he is a bit arrogant and pretentious. Like Gerald.

So instead I'll try and write something irrelevent.

Man: “You're right, he's left”
Woman: “Yes, he has, my son has gone. When did he do that though?”
Man: “I thought it was going to be tomorrow. I guess that's always my problem. Tomorrow never comes”
Woman: “I think it was yesterday. Lots of things happened yesterday.”
Man: “There are lots of yesterdays. What do you think about the implosion of meaning when too many sources of information are forced upon us?”
Woman: “Baudrilliard to that. I don't even speak French.”
Man: “No, not many do really.”
Woman: “Except the French, of course.”
Man: “I knew you'd say that.”
Woman: “Because it's true?”
Man: “No, I met a Frenchman the other day that spoke English. He didn't say a word of French the whole time.”
Woman: “Where was this?!”
Man: “In Jean-Claude's bedroom. He said he was leaving today actually, early, going hitch-hiking. Going early to avoid the rush hour traffic.”
Woman: “Oh, he's probably in Bordeaux by now. Wasn't he our son? He has been incredibly French of late. Apart from not speaking French.”
Man: “Oh, maybe he was, I never asked his name I must admit. I suppose he is gone.”
Woman: “Yes”