pinqury

Where my questions are.

my fanfiction
my empty journal

#4

Q: Why try to be happy?

Apparently, it’s not a good idea.

All I can say is, wtf, man, wtf.

Somewhere out there a pharmaceutical company “is working on a new drug to make you happier,” they warn. “There are even people who would like to give you special ozone enemas to make you happier.” Although some 85 percent of Americans say they’re pretty happy, the happiness industry sends the insistent message that moderate levels of well-being aren’t enough: not only can we all be happier, but we practically have a duty to be so. What was once considered normal sadness is something to be smothered, even shunned.

Okay, the latter part of the paragraph justifies the article just a bit.

But the rest of it goes on to say what should probably be common sense by now: that extreme, constant happiness is probably not beneficial for you. This is one of those articles that could be summed up by a picture and a smart caption: one pic of a stack of self-help books about happiness plus the annoyingly true saying “Everything in moderation” is all I need.

Maybe that’s how they’ll tell news in the future. With lots of pictures and captions— with slideshows. With quick quotes from studies and stuff, positioned beneath evocative images of people looking a little down. With a nicely-formatted list of citations at the end, and credits to follow.

Ah well, everyone is not me. And I doubt I’d enjoy reading all my news like that. I like words. They make me happy, y’know?

Ohnoes, maybe they are the new drug! To make me happier! *rolls her eyes so hard she hurts herself*

*blinks* OW.

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