My deepest regret is about my inability to smile.
I’ve concluded that I am a socially retard person, who only find solace in the cyberspace nebula; in a charming chasm where I can willfully drown myself without a trace, where I don’t have to ‘speak’ in order to have my say, a charismatic charm where life is as simple as moving fingers and typing plastic keys, as flexible as punching away emotions in paragraphs and where smiling is as easy as pressing a colon and parenthesis or typing three letters, L, O and L, together.
There are other reasons of my loving my virtual self, which relates to friends. I have once justified my net friends by categorizing two types of people you can find in this world: (this is not to generalize friends, just to accentuate the importance of my net friends to me!)
1) virtual friends in Real world.
2) Real friends in Virtual world.
I, without prejudice, deeply adore the second category. The good being it does not restrict me to geographical, racial and gender boundaries, where choice is merely intellect, words and sentences.
Back to my chronicles of smiling, being an extremist is also an obstacle in finding it easy to curve the lips, and the fact that I have fitted myself in the silhouette of a sad fairy, where everything makes her sad, where the things to be glad on also makes her sad and tears ooze out.
And generally I find myself packed in the kaleidoscope of their anguish which renders the smiling on anything remotely similar to it, impossible.
And even if, somehow anything too amazing ventures in arena and strike me, I would justify it with amazing saline water, vindicating it being tears of gladness.
Sadly, the smiles have no place in.