Do you ever get that feeling when you’re soooooooooo hopeless that there is really nothing left to do but laugh it off? Laughing it off doesn’t even cover it, actually, you have to laugh it the fuck off.
If you get what I mean, congratulations — you are good at coping. If you don’t, here is a personal anecdote to express what it’s like to hit superficial rock bottom:
At the beginning of April every year, I foolishly think that we have finally crawled out of winter’s numbing drear and now, at our wit’s end, April — salvation! — is here. I get through March by envisioning the strolls I will take, the iced beverages I will drink and the errands I will gladly run in April. Birds are singing Adele songs and I’m wearing great sunglasses. My footwear is giving me blisters, but this is a good thing because it means my shoes are new. And then what happens? It ends up raining the entire month, and it’s still kind of cold, but it’s a shitty, shitty, humid cold so your bones are shaking and the Internet is still telling you to buy a sundress and you want to buy a sundress (or this cute-ass bag!) because you can’t stand the thought of wearing your sensible wool trousers or those boots even one more time, but you have no choice.
You are a prisoner of the weather forecast.
So what do you do?
You laugh it off! You laugh it off so hard that you can’t breathe — that you feel your abs activate. That breast milk relocates to your sinuses and flies out of your nose. You laugh because you know it’s a menial problem — that you hate the weather and are sick of your clothing and just want the sun to shine so you can feel like the walls that comprise your mind aren’t crashing down on you — and you’re grateful for that. Or maybe this isn’t such a menial laugh off. Maybe you’re tired as hell of reading depressing news and being so angry that you just need to laugh.
You laugh because you know that if you don’t step outside of yourself for a minute or two or three or even four (let’s go crazy), you won’t recognize that you’re trying to climb out of a quicksand rut that is only ever temporary. So this month, we are laughing sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo hard. Giggling until no one in our periphery can focus. We’re going to keep shit light as a feather and give you a reason to enter the chambers of Man Repeller looking for a reprieve that technically means nothing but feels like it means everything because it gives you a reason to get outside of yourself.
So say it with me before I demand that you explain the ways in which you want us to keep it light: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
Photo by Edith Young.