And What of Happiness?

And what of happiness?

What have I to add to that particular question?

Elusive?

Jesus, did you ever get close to even the potential for an original thought? And that is not the dear Messiah to whom I am asking that question...or his doubters for that reason.

I am just talking about skull crushing and complete and utter unhappiness. The one that kind be hidden from, except from the whole dam world, because that happens to be your very own twisted expertise.

The happy face the clown puts out in the hope that someone will recognize it smashable.

There is my heart. Rip it out. What? You failed? Well that is hardly surprising given the fact it is already expertly drawn out and dissected into all its deformed longings on this particular operating table.

Give me some champagne. I am crying my millionth uncried tear tonight.

Give me my rewards for the prizes I don´t deserve - they mean the most....that way i can laugh genuinely for the first time.

I need something to break.

So i chose the most beautiful, the most cherished. The weakest? The easiest? Relationships are always the easiest to break, because they are in the most private things. And we always reveal ourselves the contemptible scoundrels we are in the very places where we are most hidden.

Forgive me please because I cannot forgive you.

Life is too replete with its opposite to countenance any type of councelling.

It just intrinsically baffles itself because it plain and simply does not want to be understood at all. In any way what so ever.

There.

I am unhappy.

Can I say it any more plainly?