So You Don’t Have Any Friends

Yeah. You. You don’t have any friends. None at all. You might be very uncomfortable at my typing this because you know that I’m peering into your sad, lonely soul. Some of you might be about to scroll to the comments section and call me an evil mutant twatmonster for suggesting such a thing and then emphatically (read: with profanity) tell me how you do, indeed, have friends. And maybe you do.

But for some of you, making friends is hard. Especially when you get away from the easy social barrage that is high school and college. When you get your piece of paper, throw your funny hat and move to a new city it can be very easy to find yourself with a very limited circle of people you know. Oftentimes the only person you know is… you. And sure you still have friends, back home, hours away, across the country, on another planet… but, you don’t always have friends readily accessible. So how do you… make friends? I mean. It wasn’t hard for the rest of your life. It just happened. How do you conjure new friends into existence now that you’re without?

Hanging out at a playground and screeching “WHO WILL BE MY FRIEND!?” doesn’t work, if you were wondering

For the purposes of this article, let’s assume your friend stock has dwindled. You’re essentially Kip Drordy, alone and staring at the sad clown painting you have on your wall. Whether it be through relocating, friends getting sucked up by work and family (babies!) or a world shattering zombie apocalypse, you need to make friends.

Statistics of Happiness

I am a technological whore, as are those of you reading this on your laptop, tablet, desktop, cell phone, Google glasses, game system, television, or have voice read to you by one of the increasingly available artificially intelligent algorithms that you can chit chat with, ask questions of, tell to read your blog posts for you, and then flippantly ask to unsubscribe from my RSS feed. Many of you steer yourselves to work in machines forged from chunks of dead stars that we’ve torn from the earth, fused together, and imbued with propulsion fueled by dead dinosaur carcasses liquefied in the crust of our planet.

Because we can.

It is the utmost universal cruelty that the one piece of analysis that evades the computer sitting on our shoulders is… the very computer itself. Psychology, psychiatry, neuroscience, sociology, anthropology, philosophy… We’ve developed science upon science, method upon method, and angle upon angle to deal with the meat calculator shoved in our skull and we still can’t really answer the simplest questions about ourselves, our brains.

Our inability to truly solve one  specific question with science  is most frustrating: What makes us happy?

For me the answer has been definitely discovered to be cheese, but I’m a statistical anomaly