When I smile, the world spins faster,I know, and I love it. In theory I could get thousands of ponies just by smiling, and the war would stop if I smiled. It never happened that way, but I never tried to get a pony or to stop the war. I just let those things happen the way they have to be cos I’m too busy making myself smile every time I don’t miss and I don’t eat meat, and I don’t buy a product that has been tested on animals.
I’m happy for small things and it takes so little to make me happy, that people actually get upset with me. They think I don’t care, and that I just don’t feel anything about it, but if they just enjoyed those moments of happiness with me they would be happier too, and that would make me even happier, Because, like Almodovar’s Agrado, I was born to make people happy.
And to make myself sad, too. So it’s true, when they tell me I look sad, I probably am, cos I think I might die, and people hate me for thinking I may die, but if they saw how happy and thankful I am when I feel healthy and my body breathes through pranayama they would feel happy too and that would make me feel happier as well. So when you drop me in the red light I feel sad, because the red light will turn green and I’ll have to run before that, and time will be my master and I never wanted any master in my life, that’s why I ran away. And time is my master and you leave and I feel sad because I can’t say good-bye. When I want to say good—bye, I never say it. I just run away, or pretend that I’m dead for you. But when I don’t want to say good-bye and I have to, I feel like my heart turns into a light shade of grey and I mourn. Until a ray of light hits my face and brings another freckle to my cheeks; then I’m happy again and my heart gets bigger, like a balloon. And I’m not Margo Tenenbaum anymore, nor Mia Wallace, nor Penny Lane. I am Orlando, and I am on Earth and I am in outer space, I’m being born and I’m dying.
I am still looking for that house that smells like flowers, old wood, and some Laura Ashley room spray. It smells like all that, and it smells like me too. And I think of all the houses of all the lovers I have all over the world, and I don’t find that smell anywhere. Not even my house smells like that and I wonder where my smell is or if I have a smell in the first place.
Maybe I don’t, but so far, I have a smile. And this smile is real, like the Cheshire Cat’s smile, and my sisters ask me to smile and I smile because when I do, I make them happy. And that makes my smile get bigger and bigger and bigger. So big that my cheeks and all the freckles on it that came with all those sunbeams stand for themselves and introduce me like the best hosts I ever saw in my life and I smile at them in my own smile.