Concessions with Insanity

the lasting repercussions of having someone tell you who you are

“Congratulations! It’s a healthy Happy!” The doctor smiles and hands the newborn child to the smiling mother who embraces him in her arms. She’s surrounded by warm-loving family members and I peek my head into the next room.

“Oh dear. Well, it looks like it’s a Sad.” The doctor plops the newborn child into the fragile arms of the distraught mother who is at a loss for words. After hearing the news, her family members leave to go watch the parade of minivans forming in the parking lot.

 

Unfortunately, not everyone in this world is lucky enough to be one of the Happy ones. I swim in the chilly ocean and interact with the waves. Just as I think I’ve befriended a wave and start to plan future events with it, it decides to reach the shore and dissipate into nothingness. Our future is determined by our actions in the present. I relate a lot with waves. I see them as ordinary humans with failings that are designed to die at some point with the only difference being our flesh has been coded in a different manner. I exit the glacial milk and wipe its nourishing froth off my body with a towel I found. The towel’s impact on my body becomes useless like lab rats vomiting cheese. Impact is a meaningless word. I wave goodbye to the herd of waves and proceed to visit my old friend Machiavelli, who lacks the germ of happiness.

I enter his home and find him eating tomatoes as if they were candy. The television is on and is projecting a documentary about how the incarceration of Sad people is on the rise. The problem is that disrespect leads to hatred which leads to crime but maybe I just have a warped perception of this epidemic. I say hi to Machiavelli and he acknowledges my existence. He’s a retired sociopath that spends most of his days now petting shadows. He sighs, “How do you happy?” I glumly tell him I don’t know. He tells me that maybe telling himself that he’s happy enough times will eventually convince his chromosomes to secrete joy. Repetition makes for believability but I don’t agree with his blind science. A Sad’s body isn’t adapted to an artificial ingestion of happiness. I bring up a mutual friend named Chet and how he died last month from an overdose of bliss residue. The possession, use, or buying of artificial happiness is illegal. The conversation is getting arid so I wave goodbye to Machiavelli and proceed to get something to eat.

I walk up to the drive-thru of Lawrence Livermore Labs and order my usual, Combo #3. It’s a burger with lead mixed into the beef, medium fries, and lemonade that’s been garnished with butter. I pay for my meal and sit on a bookshelf that’s been converted into a table. I 187 the contents of the bag and listen to the niche in my stomach conduct a symphony of bleach. Consistent as applesauce. I feel comfortable now but comfort makes people bored, not happy. Eating at Lawrence Livermore Labs is a legal way to break the law. False memories siege my conscious and I hold my breath through the onslaught of foreign ideology. The lead robs me of my senses and I’m no longer able to depend on them. I demand a lunatic! I read between the lines of a cracked book but there’s nothing there… there shouldn’t be anything there. The possession, use, or buying of sadness is also illegal. The life of a Sad is that of someone who types their life’s work but accidently misplaces their fingers one key to the right. jpe fp upi js[[uz

A weird confluence of events unravel to the left of me as I look right. An alkaline Happy woman is in a war of words with a product of the 1990’s. There’s a violent shift in tone when I begin to question my psychological inspirations. The cartoon female gets lost in translation as I repress her hostile posture and lose recollection of the last 4 seconds. The complexity of the situation needs time we don’t have to fully delve into it. She sighs, “How do you happy?” I glumly tell her I don’t know. How do you happy? It shows where human priorities are. There’s nothing more relentless than the pounding waves of human desire. The need to be happy is the irony and tragedy of our time. I neglected to mention that I’m a Happy. But why am I not happy?

 

Author's Note

Comments are appreciated!

Reviews

[ZackOfBridge]

To me this is about the negative effects of consumerism. All the products we buy are supposed to be happiness or at least gilded in "bliss residue" but no matter how much we ingest of it it remains artificial, shallow and happiness becomes the greatest source of buyers remorse.
"The need to be happy is the irony and tragedy of our time," We need to be happy because happiness is a commodity upon which our entire economy is based and so this sense of urgency to consume what we think could be happiness is almost literally slapped upon our asses upon arrival and our first cries are a plea for a coca-cola or a hamburger with lead ground into the quasi-beef.

[Gaston Villanueva]

This was a fantastic interpretation of my writing and I'm happy you took the time to write it
Thanks for the review!

[Vishuddha]

Wonderfully creative and unexpected imaginative. Discontinuous leaps and round-about journeys at their best. Way beyond surrealism with a delightful logic of its own. An unexpected adventure.

[Gaston Villanueva]

Thank you very much
I appreciate the review!

[Woody]

a unique style, Gaston! you tackle your ideas in an original and zany kind of way. but I like that.
this is really a fun and funny read. granted it is headache inducing but funny all the same.
I take it you are a Js[[u.

[Gaston Villanueva]

I appreciate the support, Woody
yjsmld for reading!

[Rana]

Totally creative and quite philosophical, also it tastes slightly like sci-fi. The concept of Happy and Sad first felt like the soon-to-be victorious rival of the concept of Boy and Girl. But you mentioned a product of the 1990's to be alive and then you proceeded to state you were actually talking about 'our time', so this was a clever story conveying an important message or two. Faulty priorities are a cause of chaos and misery indeed. Born happy doesn't mean happy for life, indeed. I also admired the part about waves being much like humans and the "jpe fp upi js[[uz" and "...but comfort makes people bored, not happy". Imaginative and very well written!

[Gaston Villanueva]

You mentioned most of my favorite parts haha
I didn't even think of the Boy and Girl idea but that's pretty clever too
I always look forward to your elucidation of my writing
Thanks Rana!

[Marie]

Very strange. I like it. If you do something with "Waiting in a Movie Line" you might have the character thinking of movies he's already seen. Just a suggestion.

[Gaston Villanueva]

That's a great suggestion and I'll definately use it
Thanks again Marie!

[Chadvonswan]

Damn Gaston, this was great. I didn't expect this when you said you just put something new on, I was thinking along the lines of Waiting in a Movie Line (you should write that). Very dystopian, very odd. "He's a retired sociopath that spends most of his days now petting shadows." ️Hahaha. Great imagery, and vivid weirdness. You're turning into quite the penman. (:

[Gaston Villanueva]

Waiting in a Movie Line sounds like a good idea haha i'll work on that
Thanks for the kind words Max and we'll work on a collaboration soon haha