If I were a painter, I would paint my reverie..."

Question: Why is it that a chick - such as myself - cannot reach a point in her life where she finally does not feel completely overwhelmed by or angry with the entire free world without someone or someones thinking that she is actually unhappy and being un-her-true-self and feeling it necessary to say so or imply it heavily???

Well, folks, here's my venting session for the day: LET.ME.BE.HAPPY.
Querida's happiness does not equate to giggly smiling and bubbliness twenty-four-seven, nor does it equate to sarcasm as often. Querida's happiness does not equate to constant daydreams and fantasies of a land far, far away, nor does it equate to being just as peachy keen as is possible with everything around here. Querida's happiness does not equate to her pleasing as many people as possible as often as possible, nor does it equate to her being completely hedonistic.

NEWSFLASH: I canNOT be what everyone expects me to be all the time, and I refuse to continue to be made to feel like I should. I have not been speaking my mind much lately, and if you thought you'd gotten a piece of it before, then you ain't heard or seen nothin' yet. I'm tired of being run over, and while I doubt that I will be feeling the need to 'check' {m}any of the people who read this blog, beware, and be ready, just in case; cuz I'm tired of being run over, and I am NOT going to do it any more.

And all I really want is some justice...