The Snowflake Diaries

Creating a Safe Space for Satire

This is not meant to offend anyone, including snowflakes. Of course, the term snowflake is offensive, but as a millennial liberal kickball team member and very sensitive politically correct person, I am allowed to use it because I am reappropriating it as my own.

I don’t have long. As you know, snowflakes melt quickly. Each snowflake diary must be less than two minutes long or I will disappear.

This first entry is just to introduce myself, and to let you know that I don’t feel safe. Ways you can make me feel safer: 1) follow me 2) clap for my diary 3) come cheer me on at my next kickball match at Poinsettia Park this Sunday at four PM, we’re playing a team called the Play-Daters.

Anyhow, I live with my parents still, and I’m unemployed, because I can’t find a corporation responsible enough for me to bear working at. I have decided to look into some NGOs but a lot of them make me feel triggered as well. There is still a lot of colonialism, patriarchy and other bad things that make it impossible for me to breathe most of the time.

I know it seems grandiose, to hold the world up to this incredibly high standard of moral purity, but it’s not. As a snowflake, I really am that pure. I am blameless and wonderful and young and pretty and very easily upset. So please be careful around me. I am going to give you this box of egg shells that you can walk on whenever you’re near me. I find that really helps.

One thing I can’t stand is humor. Humor is offensive. All of it. Except for really wholesome jokes like:

Q: Why did the witches’ team lose the baseball game? 
A: Their bats flew away.

Although now that I look at it, that joke is offensive to paganists and practitioners of Wiccan. Oh gosh, I’m sorry.

How about this one:

Q: Why couldn’t the leopard play hide and seek? 
A: Because he was always spotted.

Woops, that’s actually kind of racist.

Alright, if anybody can find me a joke or a piece of humor that isn’t offensive, please send it to me. But please include a trigger warning, because even if you don’t see it, I probably will, and you don’t want to see me triggered. I’m very litigious. I’m in about fifteen different lawsuits right now. So don’t mess with me.

Anyhow, I feel like I’ve almost melted away already. Putting myself out here like this has really frightened me, and being scared makes me melt faster.

So I guess that’s snowflake diary number one. Stay tuned for number two, which I guess I’ll never write because as a snowflake I also tend to lose interest in things that are hard.

And this was really hard. Writing is exhausting, right? Writing comedy is particularly hard — harder than dying, I think someone said. They were right, back then whenever they said it. And in 2019 they are even righter.

Oh God, I just read this over. Was any of this even mildly amusing? I can’t tell any more. Really, I can’t tell…

If this has hurt anybody’s feelings or outraged anyone, I apologize sincerely and earnestly.

But come on, you guys, we can do this. Every generation before us managed to have a laugh or two without causing the sky to fall.

Why can’t we?