Dear Happytimes Gestapo:
I can’t begin to tell you how good you made me feel when you told me to, “turn my frown upside down,” today at CVS while I bought Zyrtec and Angel Soft.
I had just been thinking, “Golly goddamn. I really wish someone would forcibly brighten this day in which I was almost murdered by a Suburban and was shin-rammed with baby-tanks by telling me to lose my case of the Mondays. That would sure snap me right out of these blues!”
HAPPINESS AND MOTHERFUCKING RAINBOW DINGOES ARE FLYING RIGHT OUT MY SPARKLING ASS. Twinkle twinkle; goddamn you.
We need to address and resolve your problem of shoving your goodtime feelings right up my b-hole. It’s feelings rape, and no means no.
You forcing your unwanted cheeriness on me is at best uncalled for, and at worst, a humanitarian crisis.
Maybe I had to participate in a highly uncomfortable nude public art project, despite my crushing insecurities, to keep my heat on.
Maybe I was just made to attend a funeral for someone I much loved and had to sit next to someone who wears tanning lotion all day, and therefore has that burnt, diseased coconut smell.
Maybe I just witnessed a large TSA agent beating a recently disabled man with a large pair of purple galoshes while shouting German racial slurs under the new, “Find those bombs,” initiative.
I want to think about the sadness and horrible personal choices of what I have just seen. I do not want to be assaulted with your Scientologist-esque incendiary cheerfulness today, and your terroristic demands to give in to the good feelings.
So next time you see me come ’round with no trace of a smile on my face, let me be. It’s not your God given crusade to ensure my immediate and police-enforced mood change.
Noa D. Gavin
Has anyone every tried to forcibly change your emotion? What did you say?
—Favorite Comment From The Last Post: From HoodyHoo: “Ha! I KNEW I was right about dolls!”