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Dedicated to Robin Williams

There is no reward for faking happiness, only a silent erosion beneath the mask, a slow bleeding of authenticity that leaves the soul hollowed. The world celebrates smiles too readily, never pausing to question if joy is sincere or merely a painted-on shield against deeper wounds.


Yet behind those carefully placed facades, grief gathers quietly, pooling into an ocean whose tides rise unseen. Each laugh becomes heavier than the last, echoing through the chambers of a heart growing weary of its own deception. We sacrifice truth at the altar of expectation, believing falsely that pretending joy will attract true happiness like a magnet.


But happiness cannot be fooled, it recognizes only honesty, blooming where authenticity breaks through pretense. Beneath the strain of false cheer, cracks emerge, tiny fissures through which sorrow bleeds out like ink staining pages of hidden despair. Emotions buried alive will claw their way to the surface, relentless in their search for acknowledgment.


Pretending joy is an exhausting charade, each performance costing fragments of genuine feeling, until numbness settles like dust over an abandoned room. Perhaps true strength lies not in projecting perfection but in admitting vulnerability, allowing others to witness our truths without apology or fear. Tears carry their own wisdom, cleansing pathways blocked by the debris of denial and pretense.


To feel fully is to live bravely, to taste the bitterness of sorrow as readily as the sweetness of joy. When authenticity speaks, even sadness becomes a trusted companion rather than an enemy to be hidden away. There are no trophies for enduring life behind a false grin, no applause for the careful choreography of counterfeit delight.


Ultimately, the price of fake happiness is self-betrayal, a quiet violence done to the soul each time truth is buried. Liberation waits only in honesty, a courageous step toward embracing our shadows alongside our light. Happiness, real and lasting, comes not from pretending it exists but from the willingness to walk openly through whatever emotional landscape life lays before us.

 
 

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