I sing old Sinatra favourites in the shower (as opposed to composing depressing verses while I stare darkly at a bar of Dettol soap).
I actually publish stuff on my blog (because it is not emo and thus can escape the fate of being a draft for eternity).
I can name food which would make me feel happy to consume. (In the emo days I just don't eat.)
I feel skippingly happy for no good reason.
the clincher: I grin even while listening to my personal weakness on repeat.
I think I've lived long enough to realise that I am amazingly predictable. There are the periods of random emoing/moping about. Then, with no discernable trigger whatsoever, I snap back to a strange jovial self which scares me. It's so bad I can find a horror film funny. I can look at old couples sharing food and think they are cute. I have to resist sudden urges to put my arms around huggable objects in my vicinity o.o (image!! image!!!)
The worst part: I wake up in the morning with a grin on my face. *dies*
It's this period when I am extremely forgiving of people and incredibly susceptible to nice behaviour towards others, so enjoy it. While it lasts.
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