Happy something to me.

After tiring myself with a few...well, relative pressures, I'm finally free.No, not literally, but from the abstract heaviness of this abstract pressure.It's strange how being happy can be taxing.And it is.Honest.It's almost impossible and that's all because I(we?) choose to sulk over things that aren't perfect.Am I really that unhappy?I don't think so. When did I become this way?To think of it, I was a happy kid, I had friends so it wasn't like I was alone.When did I change? And change to become this!!It's really funny how am actually characterized by an expression that one might do good to avoid, people assume I'm generally pissed off, I sulk...I mean what went wrong where?How is it that I don't know.