Do Not Tell Me To Fucking Smile Unless You Have Entertained Me First

Real quick one.

I can no longer tolerate people who come out of the gate telling me to “SMILE!”

Fuck off. Tell me a joke if you want to see my teeth.

I have been dealing with this for a very long time. I’m just not the fucking smiley type for no goddamn reason. But it does NOT mean that I am unhappy, angry, or in a bad mood.

I happen to have a mood disorder, as some of you know. And I run high almost all of the time. Which probably means I am in a better mood than any person who comes along telling me to “SMILE!”. I am irreverent, always on, only serious when necessary. That is my default setting. I don’t need to use my teeth to be full of fucking mirth. That’s because I can talk and know how to use sarcasm and point out irony and am not afraid to cross a polite boundary. I’m laughing at most of you all of the time on the inside, if you want to know the truth. Really, the only difference between us is that I am an idiot, and you are all grinning idiots. You look crazier than I do, and that’s saying something.

So please, do not tell me what to do with my face. It borders on rudeness.

How would you like it if I told you loudly to “FROWN!”?

It would probably startle you as much as it startles me when you yell “SMILE!”.

About The Head Seminarian

I went to war, I went to father, I came, I saw, and it is a mess. I wouldn't have it any other way. Shitty people amuse me, people who act like human volcanoes fascinate me like fine art. Life is beautiful, and it is under attack in a manner heretofore unseen in history. I might be writing a blog. Yes, that's all I am doing, now that I think about it. Even I forget sometimes, so we're cool.

Posted on December 5, 2022, in bipolar and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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