Why Does Furiously Happy Use Humor For Dark Topics?

My best friend loved playing 'jokes.' On my birthday, she projected my worst photos in front of everyone, saying she just wanted to 'liven up the mood.' When I was on my period, she deliberately gave me a defective pad. Even when she saw the stain on my clothes, she said nothing–claiming she was helping me 'get more attention.' After I started dating, she edited my photos into suggestive images and spread them across social media groups, pricing them like a product. When I finally snapped and confronted her, she just laughed. "I'm just helping you test your boyfriend," she said. "If he doubts you, then he doesn't really love you. How can you blame me?" Later, a man used the information from those posts to track me down and harm me. I did not survive what followed. However, when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day she first shared those images.

My girlfriend's so-called guy best friend found out I had epilepsy. He deliberately spiked my drink with stimulants. The moment I drank it, my nervous system was overstimulated. My heart rate surged. My chest tightened. Then the familiar warning signs hit–blurred vision, fragmented awareness, the onset of a seizure. The next second, I lost control of my body and collapsed onto the floor. My muscles convulsed violently. My jaw locked tight. My breathing turned uneven. I struggled to pull out the emergency medication I always carried with me, trying to stop the seizure from worsening. However, just as I was about to take it, I realized the hot water in my bottle had been replaced with highly concentrated coffee. The extra caffeine intensified the neurological stimulation. My convulsions worsened. My thoughts became more chaotic. My fingers stiffened to the point where I could barely move. Aaron Stone looked down at me on the floor and laughed. "Not bad. You're pretty convincing. "I've seen plenty of seizure patients before. Never seen anyone act this well." Gasping for air, I forced myself onto my knees in front of Mia, my jaw tightening from the spasms. "Mia... call an ambulance... I'm having a seizure..." Mia frowned at my obvious condition, but there was only impatience on her face. "Enough already. "If you keep acting like this, it's honestly too much. Since when can people having seizures still talk? "Aaron's a doctor. With him here, what could possibly happen to you?" I stopped trying to explain. Because I was already entering the next stage of neurological collapse. Even speaking had become difficult. Using the last of my strength, I pulled out my phone and sent an emergency distress message.

Tiarra Shane has never felt happiness since she was a child. Yes, they live a prosperous life, she gets what she wants, and she never has a problem with anything — she has nothing more to ask for, as others have stated. But, unbeknownst to everyone, she didn't need material things to be happy. She only needed her father and twin to accept and love her. She had the impression that his father and Reina Margaux, her twin, were not treated equally from the start. Their father treats them differently in terms of toys, clothes, and love. Because they held her responsible for their mother's death. She does everything they want, anything that pleases them, but she receives nothing but pain. How can she be happy if the only thing that will make her happy is the same thing that is causing her pain? How long will she have to pay for a sin she never committed? Her ultimate goal in life is to find the happiness she craves. But when will she be able to experience happiness in her lifetime?

I lived in this world full of lies and shit. And those people who know nothing but to judge me. They were busy talking about other people's shits and not minding their own life. Who are they? Did they give me money to feed me and my son? I am not a criminal to treat them like this. They don’t even know me and my story, but the way they looked at me, it was like they have known me for years. Their eyes send daggers at me whenever they see me passing by across the street. Their scrutinizing looks made me feel like I’m just an insect that they wanted me to get rid of. What did I do to them to treat me like I killed someone? Am I a bad person? I was just trying to give my son a good life. I know it may be dirty in their eyes, but at least I did not beg and ask for money from them. I've been living in this unfortunate world since I got fooled by love. And to keep my son, I need to work in this kind of profession. Yes, I worked in a place that they thought was the dirtiest job… But I am still proud that I am Felicity "Happy" Mondragon, and will do my best to give my child everything he needs. Find out why a loving and optimistic woman turned out to be a stripper. Will she find someone who could give her way out of that cruel world?

It’s said the most dangerous people are the ones who have nothing left to lose, that welcomed death even. Being angry at the whole fucking world for taking everything from you, leaving you alone to watch the world around you as it carry’s on. Watching the people you once thought were the protectors, when in fact they were to blame for the empty hole that now sits heavy in your chest where once your heart sat.

A young guy keeps getting into trouble in very funny and unfortunate ways. He wrecked havocs on people too, mistakenly. He hallucinated and had great fantasies about people to brighten up his hearers. Afterwards, he came back to his mundane reality.