Happy as a Lark

Be wary of ever being too happy – beware the rare bird thats constantly laughing; beware when the bounty seems too much, too good. If you know something, tell me – you know that I would just as soon as I saw it, no matter who called it. No, laughing too much means your troubles are balled up and waiting to blow like a case of the herpes. If I’m ever too happy, please would you desert me – tell me it’s my fault, say your ex-boyfriend called, say your dad didn’t think I was fit to paint walls in the house you grew up in (whatever that means). The happy ones have secret motives and schemes so they’re not to be trusted, certainly not lusted for while I am rusting away on the couch – nor sighed about, when it’s late and I’m spent, drinking wine to dry out.

My my! The best illusions are when I let my delusions buy the things that they’ve concluded might destroy my strict seclusion. Even now – I am alone and there’s a party down the road that’s packed with people that I know and even though I said I’d go I am just drinking here at home and watching television, bitching that no one wants to bang.

~ by perfectionatrix on March 27, 2011.

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