So we’re alone–this is nothing new. We know this. Let’s stop being in denial and embrace the fact that we’re dying on our own. Like, we’re already dying–we are in process of dying. Alone. It’s happening. Get on board. Here are some things that are good to do alone. I mean you’ll have to do everything by yourself, but these are just activities that will be slightly less depressing to do alone. But still pretty depressing.
Or regular golf, but who actually knows how to make contact with the ball when they swing? Hardest thing I’ve ever attempted.
Food: our life partner.
You can actually take the pace you’re comfortable with, and you don’t have to pretend to care about anyone else’s mundane observations about the art. Attn, people who think they “get” art: really, you bore us.
Browse the bookstore
You can literally sit for hours in the aisles, reading books and magazines for free. Except don’t be a dick–pay for them to support the written word, which is rapidly going extinct thanks to every
child little shit who’s still in diapers but now has a tablet, because apparently they’re too good for REAL BOOKS, and instead of interacting with the world and learning things, they just play Candy Crush while being wheeled around in their stroller, all smug like they’re royalty, meanwhile developing a lethal narcissism that’s going to be responsible for the devolution of humanity but NBD BECAUSE THE IMPORTANT THING IS THEY SAW ALL OF THEIR SNAPCHAT NOTIFICATIONS BEFORE THEIR IPHONE DIED GUYS.
Alcohol: this is where we choose polygamy, because we would like a second life partner, please–in the form of ethanol.
Go for a hike
Um how are we supposed to make chit chat with fellow hikers while we’re moving our bodies? We do not have the lung capacity for that. You should just be thankful that we’re engaging in any physical activity at all.
GET OUT OF OUR BEDS, OTHER PEOPLE. Is this a fifth grade girl’s birthday party? Why are you attempting to have a sleepover? Like get away from us we need our space please remove your disgusting bodies from our vicinity.
Go to the movies
The things we love most: dark, quiet, spaces where we’re not expected or obligated to talk to anyone–in fact we’re expected NOT to–and we get to immerse ourselves in fantasy and escape our sad, pathetic realities for two hours. And eat candy and popcorn and hot dogs and nachos and drink slurpees. And no one can see us cry.
Get a massage
We don’t understand people who get couples massages. PSA to those: You are the thieves of all that is good.
LOL. We don’t do that. But IF we did, we would do it alone. We don’t need anyone seeing us at our worst–the sight of our own reflection in the wall-length mirrors at the gym is traumatic enough. Us exercising, is like Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton rubbing their naked bodies against each other while bathing in a pot of their collective corruption and excessive wealth —not pretty.
No one can keep up with your moves, anyway–one word to describe how you tear up the dance floor: sexual.
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