I’d say I’m making this post for somebody, but I honestly don’t know. It’s more like I got the impulse to post about something like this after conversing with that person for about five minutes.
But that has little relevance. Rest assured, that person may or may not recognise what I’m talking about if they’re ever to read this, a factor depending on whether or not they suffer from a crippling memory impairment condition. But enough banter.
What is the matter with cheery people?
Is what the title of this post says, sans question mark. And also a question I find myself asking on occasion, but most poignantly of all today, when I kind of answered myself.
Cheeriness, at least for the purposes of this context, should be considered as the presence of happiness in a person in such a great degree that a superficial desire to evoke it accompanies it. I can’t say I am completely alien to this sensation, but here’s the kicker: everybody, and I mean everybody other than myself that I have seen being cheery, has shown an incumbent lack of expressive rationality.
Maybe something’s hopelessly broken inside my head, but when I get happy, I keep to myself, because I know that whenever I am happy there are thousands of people elsewhere in the world who are not nearly as happy as I am, and perhaps, just perhaps, they are like me in the sense that to me, poignantly flaunted happiness is anything but contagious.
Of course, if I’ve been around someone long enough that I am absolutely sure whether or not this holds true for them, I’ll make sure to act accordingly, but to announce my happiness indiscriminately to the world would just seem… irresponsible.
Then again, perhaps this would only be considered so if the world was inhabited by millions of people who bore an exact replica of my mentality, but I suppose we won’t be entirely sure of that for another couple hundred years.
Although I do have to say, I kind of see the point in cheeriness, to a degree. Happiness equals motivation, which equals productivity, at least unless my conscience has decided to let the deluded voice speak way up. But even if this is the case, I have to say I always find it impossible to stay cheery enough for that to count for anything past a few minutes, or a couple hours at best. There is the question of other people who can apparently keep up such things for an entire day, but once again I must say I cannot grasp such a notion without veering off into the realm of the nefariously irrational.
Then there are other people. The ones who act cheery every single time I see them. The ‘friends to all breathing things’.
To them, I have to ask: Are you robotic?
Been maintained by members of the Mechanist order? Programmed to release a batch of Necrotic Mutox on command?
Because I see no other way.
(Also, why do you always write TITLES OF THINGS in all capitals? Is that really necessary?)