When you smile, the world smiles back. Not at me it doesn’t – because even when I’m smiling, I exude gloom
I want to change my face. I’m not talking cosmetic surgery, although if chubby cheeks could be surgically de-chubbed I’d have to consider it. Surgery can’t help me – if only it were that simple. What I seek to change is the expression on my face, my whole disposition, the face I present to the world. Mine’s all wrong, insomuch as I look as if there’s something wrong. Very often I’ll be asked what the matter is.
“Nothing,” I say.
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