Right, so that little joke right there is how I laugh off anger.

Hi all, welcome to The Weird where we step into the mind of a functional member of society to figure out how they do it. You may ask, "Do what?" Just know this episode isn't for you.

The day starts like most days, sleeping in until the utterly last possible moment. Now, therapists might worry about chronic insomnia and its impact on mood regulation and future cognitive decline, but we're going to write this off to our coworkers as "not being a morning person" which is a more common and less dreadful sounding condition. Moving on.

Coffee, or the socially acceptable form of chemical dependence, comes next. Fun fact: stimulants can act as antidepressants for some people. We won't talk about the meteoric rise in coffee consumption along with mental health issues. It's probably not a causal link. Whatever those are. Coffee up! Remember to use cute mugs to feel even more vindicated in your addiction.

Next, log in to deal with the people. Technically you had to deal with the person you lived with before now but after two years in lockdown they're quite over you and again, you're not a morning person. That one perky morning person at work will immediately latch onto you. You will smile and put up with them because their mental stability is barely better than yours and emotional anchors these days are more like bumper cars, take your boosts where you can get them.

Next proceed to fall into habitual unhealthy patterns of stress addiction - your other socially accepted vice - and get things done. Nobody cares how so long as you do, so a few breaks here and there to stretch, wrangle pets, get yelled at by your grouchy lockdown partner, eat, fetch more coffee, and so forth, will make the wasted hours of your life lass more quickly before your existential dread can set in. This is vitally important to your day.

After work you clock out and refocus on food, your one unhealthy coping mechanism you've desperately spent a lifetime trying to get a better grasp on by teaching yourself to cook, good on you, not that your grouchy housemate cared other than to bitch that you create more dishes. You also do dishes. Then watch something funny and geeky while you eat, which again isn't healthy but it beats trying to engage in conversation with the ungrateful prat who literally gets all his meals made for him yet still finds shit to complain about.

After food and shows - which said negative bastard will watch until suddenly they're "mindless drivel" he's only bothering with for your benefit - you will turn to your second computer and attempt to find connections to people who don't make you feel taken for granted or mindless, either by chatting with old friends via social media or watching some funny short videos whilst secretly dreaming of a van life, on the road and away from this building you barely afforded that has now doubled in value to where you could never afford it now. Then laugh to yourself how all your money goes to fixing the shack from the fifties up until there's none left for a real vacation, like the one you haven't had in probably five years now. Not that anyone's counting. Your partner never needs them, why should you.

After you waste another evening on wishful thinking and unfulfilled plans, maybe some creative distractions or games to round out the night, go take your libido-killing antidepressants - the real ones now, not the stims - and some melatonin supplements to kick off your sleep hygiene routine. It's important to try, even if you'll wake up inevitably in four hours anyway. Like the health coach said after your therapist put you on meds then ditched you, you're just going through a transition period. Keeping habits is vital to your body eventually getting back on track naturally. One day you'll get back to your self care regimen, and things will be better.

For now though you take your pills, say goodnight with a fifty percent chance of hearing it back, and climb into the second bed as you have for who knows how many months now, they all blend together. Maybe you'll dream of happier things if you manage enough REM to dream at all. Most likely you'll be up at 3 AM fetching more tea and trying breathing exercises that barely contain the tears.

Which is fine because as everyone knows, you're "not a morning person" - which is arguably much better than the other labels you've worn over the years - and this is just another transition period. You'll get through it.

Because "functional" isn't just a therapy standard - it's a survival trait.

And tomorrow nobody will care how you get your shit done.

1) Lichtenstein, despite being the world's sixth smallest country, is the largest exporter of false teeth.

2) In our solar system alone, there are more stars than there are grains of sand on this entire planet. Imagine how many grains there are on a single beach (if you can). Mind blowing, right?

3) If I could put a number on the love I have for him, it would be greater than the number in fact #2.

This sucks so bad my vacuum cleaner is jealous.

Is a matter of fact, lawyer up. I have been traumatized.

Best advice, go to sleep and dream about being published. It is the only way.

Use this submission for kindling, then it will be worth something!

You may consider submitting to "Shit Magazine."

Please send any future submissions in a green envelope.

Dear Ms.Rose,

I've perused your dating profile thoroughly and though you seem promising, I'm afraid you're not the person for me. There's nothing wrong with you. Your resume is impeccable and you're a very talented artist. And there's no denying that you're pleasing to the eye. You're the prettiest girl I've seen on this site.

It's not you, it's me.

You see, I'm looking for a very specific type of person. Growing up, I received little to no affection from my father. I'm sure you can guess where I'm going with this.

My father was a wandering soul and couldn't be bound to one place. He never stayed at home. But there was no denying that he is every girl's dream man. His rugged looks and physique just can't be beat.

You're very sweet. But you're also too soft. I'm not into that. I want to be condescended.

Sincerely,

Electra

-|-

Brianna Rose stared at her phone in disbelief. She had recently set up a dating profile to try something new. It was about time she went on a date after slogging through exam season.

But this was something else.

Why wasn't there anybody sane on this site?

She quickly deleted the DM and then proceeded to delete the whole app. Then, she contemplated on getting her phone exorcised from any potential demons.

Introducing the new "States App!" You must have the States App to decide your very future. Open the App, choose a state (of the United States of America), then see if it is a fit for you! Is it a "red" state? Is it "blue?" Do you have to wear face diapers or not? Are there state taxes? Do they teach Critical Race Theory? Do they focus on global warming? Get all your info. here on the "States App!"

It has a percentage ratio based on age to show you in each state who has the most purple and green hair (and at what age), piercings, gang relationships, etc, for each state! Most popular religion practiced, college information, prominent gangs, average family income, dance moves and popular local bands. It informs you on basic cultural ways and so much more!

This new App will help you see if you fit in where you want to go.

STATES APP!!

Before you move, check it out!

"States App" can save your life. Minimal fee. Just pay us enough to do the research to inform you.

Della Metcalf, Palestine Texas.

i) the idea he ever has to exist without flowers is disheartening

(and so i will buy or grow or dry and press flowers for him. a wise someone once said seeing someone with flowers is like walking poetry, and i agree. it's quite grand to walk into the local flower shop and peruse through the purple hyacinths or white roses and half-bloomed daffodils. some of them are $2.50, others $3.50. these gorgeous "special blossoms", as they were labelled, were $5.50. vibrant, deep purple with yellow centers that reached outwards. they were gorgeous. anyways. the nice korean lady with tie up the flower in brown wax paper. i usually ask her to trim the bottom of the flower's stem so it's not too long. she rings up my purchase. i pay, and get to hold delicate beauty. then i walk down the street, giddy at the idea i can bring the one i love flowers. sometimes i feel silly, and cringe at such feelings, and then i continue because aren't i lucky to be able to bring him flowers?? so lucky. incredibly lucky. it's thrilling and terrifying and quite. nice. sometimes the entire flower gets covered, like a cone, if the petals are delicate. then i can't see the prettiness. but when it isn't covered, oh, it's gorgeous. everything pales in comparison. the grey sidewalk, black winter coats, anything industrialized. the natural beauty of the flower is shocking and wonderful. then, when i see him and i'm carrying the flower—usually in my left hand for some reason (perhaps my right has my clarinet or my tote bag)—i have an incredibly strong urge to get down on one knee and confess my love for him again.

"please accept my feelings," i would say with a bowed head. two hands outstretched, offering the flower. a rose, perhaps. or a dasiy. he likes those.

we're usually in the same vicinity of other people, and so i don't, but then i give him the flower, and he smiles, he is the walking poetry, and all is right with the world.)

ii) it's 4:20 as i'm writing this

(weed)

iii) i'm convinced the more we try to define ourselves the more mental limits we tentatively place in our mind.

(a strong part of the population likes having labels, or rather, a group they can belong to and find camaraderie in. i do not blame them. it's most valuable, tempting, crucial? none of those words are correct. because they insinuate the act of labelling becomes selfish. perhaps it is for some people. but the system has also normalized and made it convenient to have labels. bathrooms are a prime example.

sure, labels such as gender and sexuality are always a hot topic.

others can be just as helpful or destructive. a gifted kic carries too many expectations. high school stereotypes put people in already moulded boxes. reinforcing labels puts a self-fulfiling prophecy on us.

"i could never do that," or "nah that's something for my sister to do," or "he's a guy, it's fine" are such dangerous sentences in certain contexts. (see: studying techniques, firstborn traditions like carrying on the bloodline, gender roles regarding mental health respectively) so much is deeply rooted in our views of each other and ourselves that true diversity of ideas cannot be fostered. to change our mindset, which is crucial, is to rebel against lines and the natural thought progression we all possess. it's not simple. it's an uphill battle, and it will be for as long as we fight. truly inner demons.

i hope our generation does not remain static. asking for progress is greedy, but as long as we do not leave the earth how we found it, i'd say that's a good step.)

There is nothing like paradise. The sun shining down as you lounge on a chair with the tropics. And, of course, no one can forget the quintessential drink with the mini umbrella.

However, these mini umbrellas in your drink could lead to the very destruction of this paradise around you.

My product is an edible mini umbrella made of fruit strips to replace the wood and plastic of currently eco-harmful ones. This product is not meant to work alone but would instead act as a launch board toward more eco-friendliness in resorts. This could be an essential step in reducing the amount of plastic in the ocean.