The Void Would Very Much Like You to Stop Screaming Into It

Hey. It’s me. The Void.

We need to talk.

I know I don’t usually say anything. I know this is usually a one-way street, and you’re used to that. You’re used to me sitting there and just kind of taking it. That’s probably my fault. That’s on me.

But we’ve got to sit down and talk about a few things.

Look, I know how your life is going these days. Of course I know. Your bills? Relax. You can pay off your Amex bill eventually. And you can make your rent if you stop eating out so much. And if you cut down on drinking… that might even solve two problems at once. You know? All of this is manageable.

That guy who broke your heart? Who you stalked on Instagram and you can’t figure out which of his new attractive friends he’s dating? Enough. You have to say, “Enough.” Move on. Take your frustrations out at the gym, which would also solve two problems at once and maybe I can finally stop hearing about your damn thighs.

Also? Everyone feels achy in the mornings. That’s how your pee is supposed to smell after eating asparagus. And those lumps on your throat are your glands, for crying out loud. You’re fine. You’re totally fine.

Which brings us to the big one.

I know, OK? I know I know I know.

He’s awful.

A maniac, even. Possibly a sociopath. It’s hard to tell.

Yes, he might destroy the very fabric of this country. Yes, his grasp on foreign policy seems to be similar to a petulant four year-old. Yes, his key advisor is a guy who started a white nationalist website and who looks like a hobbit crossed with an angry radish.

It is, I’ll admit, entirely possible he’ll start another war, or several wars, or even a world war because Melania finally escaped, or his sons were revealed to be Uday and Qusay Hussein in disguise, or something.

But he’s just one guy. One freaking guy. You have got to stop coming here, day after day, and screaming into me about him. Especially using that many curse words.

I think we can both admit at this point that the screaming isn’t working. The screaming isn’t making you feel any better.

So I’m asking you, as someone who loves you — stop it. Stop the screaming. Be proactive about your life. Go do something about it.

Do anything. Do something small — gaze at your normal-sized hands and feel superior about it. Wear a dead orange badger on your head and make yourself laugh. Start a drinking game where you drink whenever the Constitution gets violated. OK, that last one’s not a great idea, oh man, I’m already drunk.

Absolutely do not google, “Trump’s neck looks like a” and see what pops up. Don’t do it! Ah, you’re doing it anyway. I warned you.

But the point is this — stop screaming and go do something. Make the world a better place.

I really, really could use the break.