The Curious Case of Serious People

Are we unhappy? Or just not happy? Or something else entirely? 

Are you a happy person? How do you define yourself as one? Is there a ballpark number of smiles and laughs and cheerful waves to your friends and strangers that quantify you in the category of “Happy”?

Are you a serious person? Brooding? You sit alone and stare into the coffee cups and empty pages? Do you kill jokes? Is there a ballpark number of frowns, taunts, retorts, angry stares that quantify you in the category of “Serious”?

Let me be clear. All the parameters I mentioned about being serious can also be mistaken for sad. But serious and sad are two very, very, different things. Seriously.

Sadly, they are often mistaken. Seriousness is not lack of happiness. Happiness is not lack of seriousness. Each can exist while the other is present. You don’t need to be juvenile when you are happy. You need not be grumpy when you are serious. Case in point:

THIS is grumpy. This can be serious. But it is a cat who is grumpy and mean and does not like anything. He is very very averse to liking or appreciating anything.

That’s a grumpy cat. Not a serious cat. A grumpy cat. Dislikes everything. Negates everything. Depreciates everything. He is not serious. He is not unhappy. He is just grumpy.

You can be grumpy and serious. Or you can be just serious. When you are grumpy and serious, you dislike everything and you don’t joke or mock it. You just state that you dislike it.

When you are serious, you are capable of being appreciative. You are capable of being happy. You are even capable of maybe a dry retort or a sarcastic albeit appreciative comment.

I am a serious person. But I am not unhappy. At least, not depressed or grumpy. I am capable of finding happiness in things I like. I am capable of appreciating good art, great coffee, wonderful books, stunning movies, beautiful women, handsome men, lovely places.

I am also capable of sitting down and paying attention. I don’t feel the need to mock or laugh all the time. I don’t smile all the time. I rarely smile. And when I do, it’s because of something that genuinely pleases me. Correction: when it seriously pleases me.

Writers are serious people. Writers stay quiet. They are introverted. They don’t like to talk too much unless its something that will provide them with the fuel to write.

I won’t talk to you unless I can use you in one of my stories. Maybe I like your face. Maybe I like your voice. Maybe I just love the fact that you have a Moleskine. Either way, I am not going to be all humorous and make you laugh. I’d rather we sit down and talk over two cups of coffee. Or more. The more the merrier.

I like being serious. Seriousness is easy. It reduces the noise of constant need to express happiness. It allows a deep tranquility. That I am fine as I am feeling right now. I don’t need to add on an extra layer of Photoshopped happiness over my face. I don’t need a new instagram filter over my smile to make it truly look happy.

Serious people can be curious people. Serious people can be nice people. The greatest example is Nick Offerman. That man is serious as fuck! And hilarious as fuck! And awesome as fuck!

Next time you meet a serious person, be cool. We’re not in need of a hug. Or a teddy bear. We’d definitely like to have some coffee. Or if its post-7pm, a good scotch.

Cheers and all that, I guess.