Ahhh... Happiness... Ultimately Equates Sadness...

Ahhh, happiness, don't I love being happy? I ask myself, don't I just love being happy? I ask myself. No reply. Silence. Hello, anyone there? Hi, sorry, I was busy sitting on the toilet having a poop; relieving myself...

I am so happy recently, it's sunny in Toronto and the air is, um... fucking polluted. But life is good, don't you love that word happy. I'm being creative, going out, drinking, smoking, dining, clubbing, partying, more drinking and more... But something has to give right??? Yes, it's my fucking heart. The days have been too kind to me, but not so kind to that precious life organ of mine. It's been going wibbly wobbly, and when I press my heart against my mattress, I can hear it hum like a trapped bumble bee on laughing gas. Today, I clutched my chest in pain, and laughed it off; I had to force myself to laugh because it was really painful, like they say, laughter is the best form of medicine. So I'm cutting out the ciggies, cutting down on the booze, and cutting down on the late nights and partying. But, alas, what happens to that happiness meter... no, you guessed wrongly, I'm still happy. Happy, happy, happy... Happiness is a cigar called Hamlet, ooooh, one of those would be good right now.

Welcome to the wonderful world of excess, it's like a gigantic soft and fluffy blanket made out of lots of dead fluffy animals. You wrap it around your body, and it makes you feel so comfortable. I'm not one of those people that addicted easily to things, that's probably why I tend to deny myself the luxuries that might make me a happier, crazier, productive and creative person. But, poor little heart, it's weak from all that speed abuse of those stupid hedonistic raver speed days. If I die now, I'll die happy, with a big grin on my face. I have totally exceeded amazing, am awfully-awfully-offally content with myself.

There is nothing like a big juicy steak, cooked medium rare. A fruity mature red wine to accompany, and a cigarette (that's not a Canadian brand) to end the meal with. Isn't that just lovely? Life's little evils.