A Word for the World

Dear Madam Universe,


I am only going to say this once. You thoroughly confuse me, each and every day. Don't look at me like that. You know why. It's not a hard concept to understand. You simply throw a million thoughts at me and expect me to understand everything.


Well, I don't. I hope you know that and I hope you feel bad.


I walk through life with a smile on my face--sometimes, I'll replace that smile with a scowl or a frown or some tears. But mostly, I like to smile. And I know that you like it when I smile too. Not that it matters; no, it is mostly the smile that I wear, whether I mean it or not.


Yes, Madam Universe, sometimes I fake a smile to make you happy, and you can be astounded at that, but it's true. I live through life to smile; and when others feel like I'm the one in need of a smile, at least then I know at least one will smile at me.


But still you confuse me. You give us this smile and it is hardly used correctly. I know what you are thinking: I am a prime example. And yet it is your fault. You don't want to see me scowl or frown or shed a few tears because it is not what the world is supposed to be filled with.


Smiles. You love them smiles.


Fake or real, you love them because they give you hope. Isn't that right? If everybody smiles, just for you, the world would be such a happy place, on the surface at least. That's what everyone sees in the end, anyway. The outside.


Oh, Madam Universe, it is a devious system you have devised. I don't know whether I am proud or frightened. But that doesn't matter, either, because I am always going to smile. You will only think that I am happy.


But tell me something: will you be so happy when, one day, you see right through the smile, and you realize that it's fake?