pLasTic sMiLEs & pLasTic fAcEs

I stand alone where I am, in this foyer, in this square, in this city.

I wonder if people know what I am thinking.  I look around me, I am by myself, and yet, I am surrounded by so many.  Is this loneliness? Am I forlorn?

I look to the corner of the room, I see a couple kissing, people walking around them like they are surrounded by an invisible wall.

A shriek from the opposite corner, it is a shriek of laughter from a group of people.  A joke is shared amongst themselves.  Yet more laughter.  I look at them and wonder how many of these people are genuine in their emotions.  Someone else joins the party and a lot of “how are you’s?” are exchanged.  The responses are an overwhelmingly unanimous : AWESOME, BRILLIANT, NEVER BETTER.  All followed by more laughter.

How much of that is fake?  I don’t like fake.  It irks me.

Another groups is walking, and they are walking my way… I know them.  They stop in front of me and begin their own customary “How are you’s?”  It would seem that my group is also filled with those whose lives epitomise awesomeness. It then falls on me to deliver my answer.  I look to the right corner, the couple kiss still.  How is that possible?  He must be off to war.  To the left corner, the other group remain, their chuckling still singing in the air.

I look at those in front of me…can I really pretend I’m ok, when clearly I’m not…


Apparently I can.


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