 Every time I see people enjoying their life, it makes me sick. It does. You know, I'm not afraid to admit that. Any time I see couples on Facebook happy in their engagement pictures, their wedding photos, yeah, well, they're getting married. It fills me with disgust. You know, even the little things like some kid enjoying an ice cream cone that they just bought, it makes me envision putting them in a boxing ring, right? And I just start wailing on them, wailing on them with my signature right and left hooks over and over. As his family healthlessly watches from the sidelines. Damn, bro, you beat up a kid just for being happy? Yes. Yes, I would. And I'm sure not the only one that feels this way. And if I can make a good estimate, about 40% of everyone in the world shares the same hatred for happiness, but they're too afraid to actually say anything or do anything. But more importantly, they don't know why they hate happiness, and they're too scared to delve deep into their repressed traumatic childhood memories to find out. Now, me on the other hand, I'm not a bitch. I not only know why, but I embrace it. You see, it all started with the Winx Club. The Winx Club, if you don't know, was this kid's show that I used to watch with my siblings and cousins. I loved it so much. Even though it was more targeted to girls like my sister, I thought it was just the dopest thing ever. Like these pixie, fairy, magical girls just beating up the forces of evil and looking fashionable as they did it to. It was my number one favorite show at the time with Power Rangers being the only thing that came even remotely close. Now, what does this have to do with hating happiness? Don't worry, I'm getting there. There's this one time when me, my sister, and my mom, we were over at our cousin's house, right? And we're all sitting around the table while my aunt was cooking something for us in the kitchen. Now, while we were waiting, my mom decided to make some small talk, you know, the usual stuff they ask kids. Hey, how's school going? You making me friends? Do you like anybody at your school? You know, those types of questions. Then she gets to the big one of the night. What do you guys wanna be when you grow up? My sister and our cousin was like, I wanna be a magical girl like Bloom, which was the main character from the Wings Club. And my mom's like, oh, that's a good one. Well, if you work hard enough, one day you can be whatever magical girl you want. And then my mom gets to me and she's like, well, what about you? You probably wanna be a Power Ranger, a wrestler, right? And I'm like, no, I wanna be a magical girl too. She did not like that answer. No, no, magical girls are for girls. You're gonna grow up to be a Power Ranger. Do you understand? I wanna be cute like Bloom. You can't. You can't. Magical girls, they don't even exist. You can't become one. No. Yeah, go ahead, cry. Cry two more times. See if I don't give you something to cry about. Okay, okay, yeah, go ahead. Cry one more time. Go ahead, cry one more time. H5 gram 64 belts. Impossible. That technique should have died out generations ago. Generations ago. My mom was a very supportive of it. And I felt torn, you know, heartbroken. I needed someone to tell me that my career choices of becoming a glamorous magical girl and fighting the forces of evil was attainable. So I decided to talk to some of my classmates at school about it. And I had to thought that since they were kids, they'd be able to relate to me a lot more than my mom ever could. Now, I don't know why I thought that. I don't know why I thought they'd offer me any sort of sympathy. These were the same people that harassed and tortured me as a pastime ever since I transferred schools. But I had the sliver of hope that for some reason we put our differences aside and they'd be like, yeah, your mom's wrong. You're gonna be the prettiest and strongest magical girl there is. Because even though they hated me, there's one thing all of us kids hated. Adults telling us what we can and can't do. But there's one thing I forgot. This school was located in the hood. The hood. They think this is the same hood where people call everything gay. You're a guy and you're sitting next to another guy on the school bus, gay. You're a guy and you're shaking another guy's hand. No, that's gay. You're a guy and you're putting a spoon into your mouth to eat food so you don't die from malnutrition. It doesn't matter. It's gay. So what do you think the response they had when I told them I wanted to become a magical girl? They not only ridiculed me and called me a fag, but they were determined to scientifically prove that I was gay. In fact, I think one of those kids are in college right now working towards his bachelor's in psychology just so he could give me a proper verdict, which I didn't really care if people thought I was gay or not. But I was just so angry that everyone I knew just shat on something that I loved so much. Something that brought me happiness, you know? They couldn't just let me enjoy what I wanted. It wasn't hurting them. It wasn't hurting anybody. So from that day on, I decided, fine, laugh. Laugh all you want. Hate me all you want. But if I can't enjoy my happiness of becoming a magical girl, I wouldn't allow anyone to enjoy what they liked either. So no, don't let people enjoy things. Anytime you see someone minding their own business and enjoying their interests, I want you to clown them so hard. Make them feel so small and useless that they turn into a soulless shell of their former self. Clown them so hard that they grow up to be, I don't know, some sort of weird-ass YouTuber that makes pathetic videos making fun of other people's interests because they're too insecure to have any interests of their own. They'll probably make a video about it one day with some self-worth joke at the end of the video because, you know, they- Stroll around, baby, please don't call me at the beast's life. Don't fuck around unless you want some.