I never felt like I was a happy person. I wouldn't laugh unless it was something really funny. I used to smile to people because I wanted to be liked, even by those who were not very responsive to my politeness. My line of work majorly revolved around sales and customer service. I was compelled to smile even if I was treated unfairly. I know that genuine smiles are scarce nowadays, but on top of that, politeness and respect are equally rare. A mere smile is therefore not representative of our true emotions. Rather, the eyes are a mirror to our soul. There's just so much I can tell just by looking into someone's eyes. One cannot suppress what the eyes so clumsily rush to communicate. The truth, the lies, the fondness, the excitement, the disappointment, the maturity, the deception - they are all vibrant. Did you know that your pupils change in size when you are attracted to someone? I admire people who can smile regularly; whose eyes inadvertently betray a blissful state. Yet, I somehow hold dear those people whose eyes exude melancholy. Perhaps that's because I can discern something familiar in that look. My childhood was somewhat tough and occasionally insufferable. I felt like I had to smile to disguise my otherwise loud misery. To stop myself from looking like the odd one out. Even now, I wonder if I should keep on smiling in my pictures. Most of all, I have come to the conclusion that what actually matters is to feel good about yourself. To give yourself the freedom to feel and to be expressive by any means necessary. An individual's smile is always pretty and alluring, but when that smile is holding hands with a pair of eyes full of melancholy is what makes me want to warmly embrace that person.