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Suggested Audio Happy Pill:

 

Pharrell Williams “Happy”

 

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Can you see the shit-eating grin spread across my face right now? It has an alternative setting you know, piss-guzzling, and that’s why I spend so much on antiseptic mouthwash and breath mints. You guessed it, I am happy. Indeed, right now, my frown is situated upside down with legs akimbo akin to a ping-pong ball firing contortionist named Ming. It’s Keeper’s way, always has been, and just feels instinctive to me to wear my smile at every given opportunity. You see, life is such a glorious gift worth cherishing in my opinion and, regardless of any heartbreak thrown underfoot as I take my fickle stroll of mortality, I will invariably revert back to a wide grill of gnashers. I’m currently approaching forty years young and, should I be presented with laughter lines by the time I reach the beacon of fifty (if ever), then I will wear them with supreme pride and happiness, such undiluted happiness.

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We all know that life can be cruel, has a tendency to pull the rug from beneath our feet without prior warning, and knows precisely how to land a haymaker. Big whoop, nobody ever said it was meant to be easy right? Oh they did, you’re quite right. Well that was many years ago now and we can’t just continue moping around forever just because the easter bunny won’t add us on Facebook. Did you ever consider that he may have reached his friend limit? Life is ultimately what we make it, a bowlful of glazed cherries or bucket crammed with rancid fish heads – it’s ultimately our choice to make. Let’s not get twist the gusset, melancholy can be our friend too and many of my best work has stemmed from channeling distilled woe into something of stark beauty. But even when I’m down in the muck with the earthworms, there is only one locale I wish to reside in. My happy place.

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Scribing out one’s sorrow bears the most delectable fruits as it makes way for more of that intoxicating happy drug. I crave every thimble of the shit, give me a smile and I just love to turn it into ten…a hundred…a thousand. As Keeper of The Crimson Quill I shoulder the most divine responsibility, that being sprinkling joy over anyone willing to lend me their ears. Fret not as I will always return them and in tip-top condition no less. While they’re in my safekeeping I will endeavor to give them a tickle and, if I’m feeling like death warmed up and wish only for the ground beneath my feet to open wide and consume me, then I won’t simply sell out to the doom and gloom merchants and break out the Radiohead. God gave me these jazz hands for a reason dagnabbit and, should I shake them enough, then perhaps I can elevate myself from this gaping chasm. Moreover, I can pay that shit forward and we can all become happy flappers.

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Last dusk I received the devastating news of one of my personal Jehads, Philip Seymour Hoffman, passing and it absolutely obliterated me. I promptly gushed out a tribute to said Goliath and may have even shed a solitary tear as I laid down to not sleep a solitary wink. However, this morning, as my first few coherent thoughts confirmed that I had not dreamed this desperately sad turn of events, I smiled. I still feel churned up inside, that dull ache in my heart still persists and, I suspect that won’t subside for a while yet. But, if anything, happiness is even more vital than it was before and I’m just grateful for the time we got to spend together. It’s all about perspective you see and how we process information, albeit often wretched, defines us all.

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So what if life can dish out blows like a fellatio-coach without so much as a shoulder-tap beforehand. That’s just the nature of the beast I’m afraid and no amount of bitching or whining will change the fact. So we do one of two things: we either become sour-faced and brooding, shedding positivity in favor of cynicism and petty angst or we choose the only path worth traversing and stick to it unerringly. Will it always be easy? Hell no, it’ll be harder than a Catholic Priest behind the lattice as little Timmy begs for forgiveness after discovering the secondary function of his penis for the first time. But, so long as we concentrate on what we can control, and leave the rest by the wayside, we’re on the right track.

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What you put out is what you get back at ‘cha. That may sound clichéd but then, if you put a positive spin on it, isn’t cliché just a point made damn well which just so happened to be flogged to death somewhat? It rings true to me as, if you decide to douse yourself in the dung of a snow leopard, then it will only be a fellow snow leopard who can stomach the scent. To everyone else, it will be nothing more than noxious shit that tests their gag reflex. By stepping toward these bright illuminations, we become bathed in their radiant glow and, by wearing those smiles, we empower others to suit up with their own, thus the cycle perpetuates. Generally speaking, positive souls gravitate towards each other and we’re not all that tough to spot thanks to our pathetic attempts to whistle the theme tune to The Waltons. I love me nothing more than a dash of sentimentality but that doesn’t make me a book end. That’s where a wicked sense of humor comes in handy.

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There’s no need to click our heels or bust out the dimples, eyes are the windows to our soul and can convey our essence without resorting to laying it on thick. Alternatively we can invest every muscle into showcasing our glee. My angelic little boy achieves the desired effect effortlessly and his whole body positively screams happy. It will be my life’s work to empower him to wear this openly; even when the time comes for his innocence to be lost and he begins his adolescent venture, I will be there reminding him that life is good, people can be kind, dreams are always achievable and love is all around him, as long as his eyes remain open to the prospect. Screw informing him that life stinks while his neurons are still wiring, there’s a good reason why this isn’t the preferred method of enlightenment as he’ll need these tools later on in life and it’s my job to make damn sure he has every last one in his armory. Whenever my time on this earth runs its natural course and I take my eternal sleep, I will feel happy. You see, I’ve achieved something during my lifetime that can never be taken away. I have been partly responsible for the creation of a young life, cradling him in my arms mere moments after his cord was cut and, if that isn’t reason to veer toward the light side, then I don’t know what is.

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Thus my advice to you would be to smile Grueheads and make it number one priority. Leave behind those unsightly scowls, flush your frustration, and cherish one another wherever possible. Holy hat stands, I just read that last sentence back and threw up a little in my throat. That said, acid reflux ain’t so bad when you get used to it, and it does provide a second bite of the cherry so to speak, with the added twang of stomach acid to liven that shit up. Happiness is where it’s at it for me and the fact that I suffer from depression just makes it all the more vital. More infectious than pox, and less likely to leave scarring, it also provides far more of a workout for your face than a dumb old grimace although, if you held a gun to my head and informed me that I was required to bed either Bert or Ernie then I’d have to admit I’d go for Bert. I’d just make it hurt is all.

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Click here to read Blue Monday

 

 

 

GREY KEEPER FRAME

7 Comments

  1. Oh yes!! Children are the gift of happiness and innocence, I notice they make you see life as it should be! With eyes open, without fear, without prejudice just love! I’m so happy you are happy lol, did that make sense? Loved it Keeper! It was beautiful and made me HAPPY.

  2. The intense feeling of inner warmth and exuding a radiant glow, that’s what I like to hear about and see. After all Angels prefer to live in the light. Light brings about balance.
    I love this 🙂
    Truly
    xo

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