How To… Cry Me a River

It might have been an idea to try that title out before coming up with ideas for it. No matter how sincere I might in fact be it’s next to impossible to make the above sentiment sound anything other than incredibly sarcastic. You might have come to me with a genuine problem and you can practically hear the eye roll coming off a title such as how to cry me a river. But I do care, really, at least a very little bit.

Consider all the tears a person with relatively normal feelings might shed over a lifetime. All the hurt feelings, the anguish and heartbreak, the frustration of not being properly heeded in sagely wisdom or well thought out opinions, the scabbed knees and stubbed toes, the moments of fear or pride, the only way of venting sadness, the crushing realisation that you haven’t become all you could be, instances of loss or cataclysmic shifts in reality.

What sort of volume does all that emotion amount to? Enough to fill a sink? A bath? A small lake? Small puddles building up over the course of several decades almost definitely isn’t going to be enough to work its way up to being a river. You’ll need to rope others in to helping out with this particular endeavour.

How about bringing a previously unforeseen level of pain or misery into the world? Nah, people will get acclimatised and the flow of tears will naturally stem before too long. The way forward is clearly heartfelt nostalgia. Imagine the film Love Actually cranked all the way up to eleven. Pump one of those out into existence, theme it around a particular public holiday and watch the reservoirs flood over with the tears of the masses. It’ll definitely probably work. If only because your frustration will produce more blubbering than you could have ever expected.

Cry me a river – Justin Timberlake

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