Thursday, 22 March 2012

The Happiness Machine

To calculate your overall happiness, you take out a few counters from The Box. Lets say... A yellow counter for happiness, and a black counter for sadness. Now depending on what kind of mood you are in, affects the currency exchange rate, but lets say you're feeling quite neutral right now, so each black counter is minus one, and each happiness counter is plus one. After picking out several counters from the box, you realise you're on a minus number. All your worries and fears have been drawn out from The Box, and they stare back at you coldly. You'll want to add more yellow counters because happiness is a good thing right? So you try and reflect upon the good things - almost desperately to get to '0' or a plus number. Sometimes this is quite difficult, and sometimes you count the black counters as minus two or three, because you feel quite sad.

But no matter your calculation, you don't have to stand by it. When have numbers or math ever served you in a light-hearted conversation with your friends, or the feeling of warmth - either from the sun or just simply from a smile? Take a break from fighting the world, and make your own personal revolution. Break free from sitting in that dark room and counting... And make your own rules to happiness.

Saturday, 17 March 2012

The Desk II

I have been sitting down for a while now on my dull yellow chair, my hands stretched into a mellow chord on the keyboard in front of me, yet no music plays; the power had long since been told off. Clouds gather in the window, it's waning light highlighting particular objects on my desk such as the pile of paper to my right, and the open drawers full of clothes that hang half in, half out. I know somewhere in my room, my bin should have been emptied out weeks ago, used tissues most likely have a life of their own by now. I decide to empty the bin out tomorrow, and maybe even dust the desk too. Time had been and passed, and evidence stacks in layers within the corners and between the unreturned letters. Is this loneliness, I question myself, while realising that a significant amount of time had past since my last reflection, an old rail ticket sits in my hands. I smile to myself, perhaps somewhat insanely, and think that I am much more of a person when I am with my friends, so much so that perhaps I am less of a person when I am alone. Maybe, I have playing along for too long, that somewhere in the dust is the remains of myself. This idea is far from the belief that I am selfless, no. I am very selfish. I guess that is how I use people, I have forgotten who I am, and the only way I remember is through my friends. Fragments of myself discovered through conversation, no single friend knowing the whole 'me'. I want to laugh, this dark thought is a little bit silly, I know, I understand that well; yet some part of me seems charmed by the whole idea of losing myself, perhaps I am mad already, or I have been alone for too long there simply has never been a single 'self'. Now that sounds insane all right! I may have laughed at this point, I don't know. I doubt I'd even want a single friend to know 'all of me', so I decide that this entire trail of thought is ridiculous. I return back to reality, my arms are now spread out across the keys before me and let out a sharp wail. I must have turned the keyboard back on at some point, I turn the power off again. I have been sitting at this desk for too long.

Friday, 9 March 2012

The Desk I

It's late again, and I can't help thinking about the many times I was close to you. My dear friend. The candle burns and casts a shadow on my desk. I relate more to the shadow than the flame now, your distance is so far as to sit in an entirely different world. Sometimes your friends tag your photos online, photos of happy smiles with people I don't recognise. I guess time moves on, and your shadow moves further away. I would contact you, but other than for the sake of loneliness I wouldn't know what to say. Maybe I'll wait next month and say happy birthday. But that'll make me just another message, a sentence with no real meaning. I don't want to be just another person you met some time ago, but I'm afraid to admit that some friends come and go. But just so you know, a reply from you would make my day, don't be afraid to say “I miss you” sometime soon.