Someone Asked Me A Question

Q: What’s your secret to happiness?


A: Wake up and picture yourself in a Quentin Tarantino movie.Wake up as a cocaine addict whose husband threw a Samoan off four storeys,wake up as an air stewardess who smuggled money for an African American who lives in Compton,wake up as a boxer whose father hid a golden watch in his ass throughout two wars. Say things like “Well,I’d be damned!” when you run out of toothpaste. Dress like yourself. Black jeans,black boots,blue shirt,but think like a psychopath. Eat breakfast like you are about to go in for an electric chair session. Wait for the bus and when the lights in the bus stop goes off at 7am,picture a robber coming attacking you from a corner that was hid in your blindspot.When the bus arrives,thank profusely that a robber didn’t jump on you or anyone else who waited for the bus. Sleep in the bus. Wake up and picture yourself in a Chuck Palahniuk book.Wake up as an insomniac who fucked someone he didn’t understand,wake up as a girl who’s too damaged to dress herself.Walk to class feeling dark and bleak.Surround yourself with people who are the opposite of dark and bleak.Feel grateful for people like that.After class,go home.Sit the bus and talk to people who needs to be talked to.Feel less lonely because someone else is less lonely. Walk home from the bus stop,picture yourself getting hit by a car.Think whether the driver is the kind of driver who will stop and stare or stop and go.Reach home safely and feel perversely lucky because you didn’t get hit by a car.Eat dinner and feel warm inside. Go to sleep and hopefully repeat everything in the morning.


This isn’t a secret to happiness,but it keeps me pretty satisfied.


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