Some people say I'm too damn cheerful. Assume I haven't been knocked around enough in life. It's true that I've been more than averagely blessed in many ways — but, I've known more than plenty of struggles: sharp, excruciating, gnawing, vicious; external, internal; brutally quick and achingly ongoing; lightning strikes and hammer blows, tripping falls face-to-ground. I drag heavy fears, often hurt, and I've hurt a lot. But why nurture the negative? With each adversity and graying year comes a brighter, giddier laugh and a more sincere, deeper smile. My heart gets both weaker and stronger with each blow, and every knockout convinces me that I don't want to spend any more time, not even mere seconds, being miserable or resentful or smeared with the filth of the past. Wash myself clean each morning and brave the new day. Better than wallowing in the stink. I'll take what I can get in lessons and give whatever I can in smiles. And yes, I hug and I love! My comforts amongst the ills of life.