On Happiness

[Achebe]

“am i happy”
I ask the Internet
as I sit in old pajamas
still in bed on a Saturday
11AM.
I have a staring match with the search bar.
It blinks first, but it is I who’s lost 
myself in Google pages ...underlined: doesn't seem to be necessary. You could possibly jump from 'myself' to 'in self help', or, as dale suggests, a quirky url
on topics of self help and otherwise
but helplessly
I find no self love
anywhere. 
 
An ad flashes neon at me:
 
want big tits and no worries
75k working from home
magic pills make you just like
Barbie (yes, the blonde one!)
and answers to all life’s questions?
 
Tell me.
no.
--caps lock--
TELL ME!
for just $19.99/month, you too could… 
 
for christ’s sake 
 
I tap the “home” key
but I’m not in mommy’s arms; ....this is a terribly weak joke    - get rid of it
instead a banner pops up
saying my account balance
is lower than my standards
after a few shots at a frat party. ...I like this strophe individually, but as part of the poem, I am starting to get bored by the meandering
 

My heart beats its fists into my brain
hapPY? HAPpy? hapPY? HAPPY?
Like the third day of a caffeine trip.
Maybe it was the coffee on my sheets,
stained by last week’s Joe
“He was handsomer at the bar”
I thought when he smiled and shut my door
the morning after. He never called.
 
 
I could see its rearing head
in the reflection of my Mac screen:
the zit between my eyebrows
no makeup could cover
the bruises on the inside
were the ugliest.
 
Double click.
Delete all. ....what's the connection b/w double click and delete all?
Blink. Blink---
 
Blank.

Overall, the poem is a nice light, entertaining read, but it just loosely touches on the theme of 'happiness' and so lacks a bit of coherence.