I like that we’re broken


We are knee-deep in cure-culture.

As any good sales manager will tell you – “find the problem and offer a solution that solves the problem” and they’ll love you for it.

I reach for the pain.

How can I feel happy and sad at the same time? Like right now, I’m sipping black coffee for lunch. And I feel good. Yet I have this nagging feeling of dread lingering on the left side of my body, in my shoulder and bicep area.

It’s nothing personal, just an overall feeling of dread for humanity. It’s like I can feel the sadness of everyone around me. Their sadness is my sadness. It’s a tap I can’t turn off.

If we really believe money can’t buy happiness, why do so many people buy lottery tickets?

“They should trust us to do our job,” says the lady behind me. That would make her happy. But Ian, her boss, doesn’t care.

I feel her pain.

I feel the pain of the lady in the pink jumper walking slowly up the stairs holding her stomach. And the dude next to me can’t catch a break. He was born to be a sales god but has found nothing but demons on his plate.

I know of no greater joy than sugar shock, that moment just before you crash and your brain turns off and you leave the planet.

What ails you?

Try one of these:

The cure-culture is supposed to make us feel better, instead, in many cases, it’s making us feel worse than we ever have in our history. Just ask Google.

Me, I’d rather be broken and

And you and I fools together.

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