For ME - not presuming to speak for anyone else - this is closely analogous to telling a blind person, “There are so many beautiful things to see.”
I Just Can’t “happy.” My Happy thing is broken/missing.
And I feel like you’re saying it’s My Fault that I’m not Happy.
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Happy? How in the hell can someone be happy in this sadistic slaughterhouse of an existence? Only the mentally challenged or the psychopath can be happy in this living compost heap.


