I am... temperamental right now. Perhaps that's too gentle a word. I am in a foul mood. I'm not depressed. I'm not sad. I am, for lack of a more descriptive term, angry. And you know what? You people don't deserve me cheery or happy. You haven't earned it. You got cheery me as a matter of course. You got cheery me because I was trying to be cheery me. You didn't have to suffer through moody and depressed me like my friends from high school and college. You didn't have to deal with smoking myself to death me. You never had to witness distraught me or sorrowful me. You didn't have to put up with me through all my shit. You don't deserve to see me cheery. You have no right to see me cheery when you contributed no part to all the work that went behind that.
I've spent so much time trying to be cheery and happy and pleasant, and you know, that's all bullshit, and I'm done with it. I'll be what I want to be and how I want to be and when and where I want to be, and I'm done with trying to please you and humor you and play to you. I have spent far too much of my lifetime acquiring a boatload of fair-weather friends.