Blanket Forts Could Have Saved Alderaan

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I almost feel like I don’t need a post. Mission accomplished, message sent. Stop saying everything’s fine and start offering people some goddamn ice cream (or cake or whatever’s handy, I suppose). Every time you want to say something positive instead of kind, think of how cold “Another Suitcase In Another Hall” from Evita always sounds. Or, in case you’re not into musicals for some unfathomable reason, all those sad movies where one bro is in his feelings and the other is chugging his drink and pretending to be anywhere else and then says something vaguely cheerful. Don’t be chuggy beer guy.

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No! Bad! BE cry! Be cry if you are cry!

I don’t know who sold us the idea that happy was the ideal, the only emotion people wanted to see from us. It’s frickin’ bullshit and I wish we still had the receipts so we could return it to that snake oil salesman.

Look, some times we’re just not happy. And it’s fine. We can be angry or stressed or–heaven forfend!–sad. Even for whole days! We can be unhappy for days and still be lovable, still be healthy, and still be correct to feel that way. If you can determine a provocation for the feelings, it’s only when the days turn into weeks that maybe you need to consider a change or that you’ve changed. And even if you have, or it’s unprovoked and you’re dealing with your demons? YOU ARE STILL WORTHY. Chances are unless you’re one with the Force, nothing bad will happen if you feel something. Unless and until you’re killing younglings, you’re being totally normalsauce, and everyone still likes you.

So, anyways, all that in saying, I think you’re fucking great, even when you’ve misplaced your smile. Honestly, it’s probably in the couch cushions. Let’s look, and if we still don’t have any luck, we’ll build a blanket fort. ‘Kay? ‘Kay.

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