Kind, amicable, amiable. As easy as the spelling and pronunciation. Easy to be friendly. I have been friendly all my life, but I did not know just what impact friendliness have on people in general. Friendliness is but a part of the construction of my being, for the most part. Now, there were times when friendliness did not do jack for my wellbeing, as people tend to get rude rather than not, pushing me into some form of depression. I think that my soul feeds on friendliness. It needs the neighborly camaraderie as much as any living life form needs sustenance to keep alive and healthy. Unusually so. Sometimes I wake up with a bad mood due to a bad memory, or lying in bed thinking about . . . stuff. That gets me moody as hell, digging a frown into my face as deep as an abyss. Or the next best thing. However, the moment I walk into the kitchen every morning to make a cup of coffee while the two ladies get ready for work in the most peculiar manner on earth, that mood is gone as fog would vanish with the blink of a sliver of sun. I start my day with jokes and laughter, end my day with jokes and laughter, so, all negativity during the day gets shunned between those two polarities. It’s as if rudeness does not have any effect on me. Then there is a smile. I smile and laugh the whole day. There is nothing to it than working on those facial muscles every now and then without the fear of paralyzing a muscle due to the lack of use. I am not that person. I do not relate to any person as such, even though I restrain myself to ask what ever could have made you so miserable that you look like you could die. Maybe death in the family, maybe retrenchment, maybe financial issues, who knows such things, and I will give them that. Surely. I have my bad days, as well, when even a smile can’t help, even though I am so intent on using what I have been given. Now, people have been looking for me from the time I worked in a grocery store, being the friendly one in the group. Yes, my ex co-workers had sad, sullen faces that could make a truck explode, let alone me. Good, you lost your fifth boyfriend this month. Get a new one, they make them by the plenty. I mean, there is a reason to be angry, there is a reason why things happen, but do not, I repeat, do not let people in on the cryptic secret, for they don’t care. Every one has his or her own problems. Deal with it on your own terms, in your own privacy. Am I being too optimistic to tell you that a smile can make you feel better? Do some even know what a smile is, let alone use one? Back to the grocery store. I could light up an acquaintance’s face just by looking into their eyes, knowing that my positive attitude would have a similar effect on them. Reaction conforms to action. I once read something stupid that stated those who laugh the hardest was hurt the most. Maybe whoever wrote that might be right. Maybe I am tired of the hurt in the past, one leading or trumping the other; that is why I relate to being as amiable as possible towards anyone who deserves it, even if just on the surface. I don’t care. It makes me feel good about myself. That is what it’s all about, anyhow, to feel good about yourself. I resort to many things to make myself feel good as some people tend to rely on only one . . . being rude. They will die unhappy.
It’s raining like mad. I love the rain and always will. The clouds are thick and dark, the winds cold and frisky. I’m gonna be in heaven on the way back home . . . but it stopped just now. No luck for me. Maybe, who knows.
That is all . . .