[Aiden Perrins | Contributing writer]
In 2014 Pharrell Williams sent out some kind of brainwash song and now people seem happy, like all the time. When I go to my lecture at 9am on a Monday morning I don’t want to be greeted by an upbeat smile, I want the sentence: “Hi, how are you? How was your weekend?” to be condensed into a tired grunt.
This is not saying I am never happy, but I love to rant about things, so when I am happy I enter a strange paradox where I’m annoyed at how happy I am. I am never happier than when I am getting annoyed at anything that doesn’t really matter. These insignificant irritations include people who read the descriptions in a box of chocolates before selecting one; seriously just take a risk for once in your life.
I’m also not saying that I don’t want other people to be happy. I want other people to be happy, just as long as they’re doing all their happiness far away from me.
I have no problem with being bashful, dopey, grumpy, sleepy, sneezy or even a doctor. But how can someone, fictional or not, be perpetually happy? It’s just not a realistic character in my opinion.
Lots of people being really happy around me would be similar to my version of purgatory. As if happiness was the eighth deadly sin.
It could be said that I am old before my time, but as I see it there is nothing wrong with being grumpy and appreciating a nice, hard chair which doesn’t hurt my back.
Aiden Perrins | Jacob Beckingham-Wells