It feels forced and disingenuous if I’m depressed or preoccupied. Some people are good at faking it -I’m not- or snapping out of it but I can’t seem to shake it today. Usually I find a way to laugh amid misery but I seem to have misplaced my sense of humor; maybe it’s buried under piles of defeat. Today, this is all I can think about:
What the heck, you can amuse yourself by making a head stone too. Tomorrow I’ll feel embarrassed for having published this -assuming I’ve recovered my usual good cheer.