Let’s Just Say I’m Glad He’s Mine

“‘To be or not to be?’ ‘What a piece of work is man!’ It’s a lot of cliches.”

"When the World Decides to Sing"

The lights dim before they disappear.

In that fragile second, the world holds its breath.

A man walks on stage. He opens his mouth to speak. You expect dialogue, something simple and reasonable.

And then he sings.

Not softly. Not shyly. He sings as if the only way forward is through melody. The orchestra answers him without hesitation, like this was always the plan.

You blink.

What kind of story pauses its own conversation just to break into song? What kind of universe decides that feelings are too large for plain speech?

It sounds absurd.

It should not work.

And yet, when the music swells, something inside you settles into it.

Because in musicals, emotions refuse to whisper. They do not sit quietly inside neat sentences. They rise. They stretch. They climb scales like ladders toward something brighter.

A character does not simply say, “I am afraid.”

They let violins tremble beneath their confession.

They do not just fall in love.

They turn toward the light, voices blending, harmonies wrapping around them like fate agreeing.

Is it unrealistic?

Completely.

But so is the way our hearts race before a risk. So is the way joy makes us want to move. So is the sudden urge to dance alone in your room when your favorite song plays.

Musicals do not pretend life is subtle.

They let it be large.

The dialogue stops. The plot is carried by song. A chorus line kicks in unison and, for a moment, the world feels organized. Timed. Perfect.

You tell yourself it is just glitter. Just tap shoes and bright lights. Just choreography that does not technically advance the plot.

But then your foot taps.

Your hands clap.

You wait for the key change like it might change you too.

There is bravery in a musical. To sing when speaking would be safer. To dance when standing still would be easier. To believe that your ordinary story deserves an entire orchestra behind it.

Even the shy character eventually steps forward.

Even the villain gets a solo.

Even the background voices swell into something impossible to ignore.

No one is truly invisible when the spotlight exists.

And maybe that is the beauty of it.

Musicals are not just performances. They are permission.

Permission to feel loudly.

Permission to imagine boldly.

Permission to believe that your quiet Tuesday might be hiding an overture.

Some musicals sparkle and grin, drowning in sequins and smiles. Some ache with sustained notes that stretch so long you wonder why they are not speaking. Some barely talk at all, choosing to sing every breath in dramatic devotion.

You might sit there thinking, Why are they not just talking?

But when the harmony locks into place, when dancers move as one, when a single voice becomes many, you stop questioning.

For some unexplainable reason, the crowd goes wild every time the line kicks together.

Because unity looks powerful. Because timing feels magical. Because in that synchronized step, chaos becomes choreography.

When the final note lingers and the curtain falls, you applaud as if thanking them.

But perhaps you are also thanking yourself.

For remembering that life can be sung. That sorrow can rhyme. That joy can echo louder than doubt. That somewhere inside you is a stage waiting for courage to step onto it.

The lights rise again.

The spell loosens.

You walk out quieter than the orchestra you just heard, yet somehow brighter.

As if a small piece of that music followed you home.

As if, at any second, the world might decide to sing again.

(YES, NOW WATCH "SOMETHING ROTTEN!")

50-point swing in six years!

Truth is, we don't need to raise taxes, we can actually lower them on the entire working class of America.

We just need to stop financing foreign wars on borrowed money, and end the mega-wealthy and corporate tax evasion.

Woah mama is this you

also him vs jonathan groff hitting the same note

See, we have this concept called “bodily autonomy.” It’s this….cultural notion that a person’s control over their own body is above all important and must not be infringed upon. 

Like, we can’t even take LIFE SAVING organs from CORPSES unless the person whose corpse it is gave consent before their death. Even corpses get bodily autonomy. 

To tell people that they MUST sacrifice their bodily autonomy for 9 months against their will in an incredibly expensive, invasive, difficult process to save what YOU view as another human life (a debatable claim in the early stages of pregnancy when the VAST majority of abortions are performed) is desperately unethical. You can’t even ask people to sacrifice bodily autonomy to give up organs they aren’t using anymore after they have died. 

And here’s another point: When you say that “rape is the exception” you betray something FUNDAMENTALLY BROKEN about your own argument.

Because a fetus produced from sexual assault is biologically NO DIFFERENT than a fetus produced from consensual sex. No difference at all.

If one is alive, so is the other. If one is a person, so is the other. If one has a soul, then so does the other. If one is a little blessing that happened for a reason and must be protected, then so is the other. 

When you say that “Rape is the exception” what you betray is this: It isn’t about a life. This isn’t about the little soul sitting inside some person’s womb, because if it was you wouldn’t care about HOW it got there, only that it is a little life that needs protecting.

When you say “rape is the exception” what you say is this: You are treating pregnancy as a punishment. You are PUNISHING people who have had CONSENSUAL SEX but don’t want to go through a pregnancy. People who DARED to have consensual sex without the goal of procreation in mind, and this is their “consequence.” 

You’re very statement has already killed since Roe vs. Wade was overturned. It is because these very situations came up and, because abortion is denied “except in special cases,” nobody would perform the very much needed procedures until pain, suffering, and death had already resulted.

Want something closer to what can happen to you? Imagine finding out you had cancer and lawmakers telling you doctors can do nothing until it’s stage 4, a “special circumstance”. When it’s terminal. When your odds of surviving are so low that they won’t even try to save your life.

I just want to say that your gut feeling of “abortion should be available in case someone needs it” and feeling uncomfortable with the idea of it being used when it’s “not needed” isn’t a *bad* instinct. It feels very grounded and logical and compassionate.

But the devil is in the details. Who gets to decide when it’s needed? How do you prove that you qualify? Who do you need to prove your qualification to? How long will that take? What happens if different authorities disagree on whether or not you qualify? Every barrier to access prolongs ANYONE getting this care, and makes it more likely for people to get caught in the cracks and suffer. And that’s what we’ve seen in places where these restrictions have been put in place.

But there ARE ways to help reduce the number of abortions *other* than restrictions to access. Improved access to contraceptives, improved access to prenatal health care, more resources for people in domestic abuse situations, better parental leave policies, more funding for child care, Medicare, low income housing, foodstamps. When you make pregnancy (and parenthood) less dangerous, more affordable, and less potentially damaging to a person’s quality of life, then fewer people will feel like abortion is their best option.

Everyone needs to bring this up. Every TV appearance needs this question answered.

SHALL I COMPARE THEE!!!!