Do You Need a Good Cry?

Quick quiz: do you work a 9-5 job? Do you get to said job by walking in the humid, almost-but-not-quite-there-yet-warm weather? Do you walk in said weather to a subway station (to get to said job) only to miss your train by a fleeting second before waiting 20 minutes for the next one? DO YOU THEN get on the overcrowded train (after walking in said weather, to said subway station, to get to said job) to discover you’re the exact height to just nuzzle right in to the armpit of the stranger standing next to you? Is this just your average morning before having to face the grueling day? If you answered yes to any of the above, you deserve a good cry. And not just a cry because the morning commute is as described, but the good cry based on nothing that has to do you with your own life. It gives you an excuse to openly weep while concealing the fact that the tears may be subconsciously caused by any events actually happening to you. Win-win!

Today, The Fault in Our Stars opened nationwide and if you needed something to push those tears out of your eyes, go see this movie. Not kidding. Do it. I made the grave error of reading the book on a plane during a flight with my dad. Once he finished watching LOTR, fully oblivious to my audible sniffles and gasps for air, he turned to me and said, “you have a cold?” No, dad, I did not. I was just too busy sobbing to remember to breathe properly.  My b. The flight attendant was also very concerned for my well-being, bringing me tissues without having to be asked (thanks, anonymous flight attendant). This book 100% got the best of me and I can’t imagine what the movie will do, I tear up watching the 30 second trailer…SNS


If a love story about teenagers diagnosed with cancer doesn’t do it for you (first of all, who are you?), Brooklyn Magazine compiled a list of ten movies guaranteed to at least start to melt your heart of ice. So go ahead, handle your morning commute today like the champ you are, grab a free doughnut and then go sit in a crowded dark theatre and shamelessly let it all out (Brooklyn Magazine).


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