Let’s face it–everything is terrible. And we know that it’s always going to be. We could try coping by way of optimism (LOL), exercise (LOL), or trying to make things better (can anyone say fool’s errand?). But thou shalt not delud-eth thyself–life is one big shit pile, so we might as well sink in and find a way to deal with it. Enter: crying. If I may be so bold, the only way to survive is to cry.
Crying is the ultimate surrender. It’s the physiological and emotional equivalent of waving your white flag, loud, proud, and flamboyantly. Who knows why it’s such a relief (actually, it’s probably a very simple explanation involving release of certain hormones or endorphins or whatever)–but it just. feels. so. good. It’s like when you quit in the middle of an obstacle course, or a jog, or rough sex–giving up is WONDERFUL. Like, FINALLY. #Fuckit. #THANKGODITSOVER. I don’t know what everyone who’s like “never ever give up” is going on about–more like, ALWAYS give up. Give up every chance you get. Why? Because it’s easy. And what do we love and appreciate more than anything in this life? (Besides food)? Things that are easy. Hence, we love crying because it’s a heck of a lot easier than actually dealing with our problems.
Also, your tears will never betray you–they’ll never impregnate you and then break up with you in the abortion clinic waiting room. They’ll never complain that your TV is too loud even though it’s DEFINITELY AT A REASONABLE VOLUME AND I’M SORRY YOU CHOSE TO LIVE IN A BOTTOM UNIT AND ARE A BITTER OLD HAG WHO’S DECIDED TO TRY TO STOMP ALL OVER MY AUTONOMY. They’ll never eat the last Otter Pop and, god forbid, leave the empty box in the freezer. They’ll never tell the principal it was you who ate all those peaches you were supposed to sell for your spring fling fundraiser, and that’s why you were home for 2 days with diarrhea. Tears are the closest you’ll ever come to a loyal companion. They’re your best friend–steady as that river that Mulan sings about.
Additionally, crying pairs nicely with laughing, another one of our favorite pastimes. My go-to is the old laugh-cry. Usually, I start out laughing at the absurdity of whatever horrible life circumstance I’m stewing in at the moment, and then
stumble clumsily like a fawn fresh out of the womb swiftly transition/barrel roll into a disturbing healthy sob. Maniacal laughter is to crying what those little Pixar pre-film films are to Pixar films.
In short, cry it out. Just let it out like Britney let it out at the gas pump, or like Jodi let it out during her 2013 Golden Globes speech, or like Gayle and Oprah let it out each time they’re presented with a carbohydrate. Open those floodgates–we may be in a geographical drought, but your tear ducts have no shortage of wet, salty, pathetic drops–we can/probably will be here crying ALL day.
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