The Ultimate Safe Space Showdown:
The Woke Hipsters gathered at the renowned SafeSpace Sanctum, a new cultural phenomenon, where each patron must first sign a contract that guarantees no opinions, ideas, or thoughts that could potentially cause any kind of discomfort will be permitted inside the walls. It’s got everything: weighted blankets, therapeutic goat yoga, endless mindfulness podcasts, and, of course, an emotional safe space certified therapist who’s only job is to cancel out “bad vibes” before they even exist.
But despite the Sanctum's extreme commitment to safety, there was a disturbing issue: it’s getting too popular. And that’s exactly what the woke hipsters couldn’t bear.
"We’ve lost control of the narrative!" one hipster wailed, wearing a vintage band T-shirt that read "Cancel My Privilege" under a delicate cloud of lavender incense. "This space isn't even about purity anymore! They’re commodifying our trauma!"
Another hipster, wearing a T-shirt that read "I Once Boycotted a Boycott", nodded gravely. "Yeah, it’s almost like they’re commercialising emotional vulnerability. We should cancel them before they start charging people for their emotional labor—do you know how much emotional labour we’ve done?!"
At the front of the Sanctum, a large sign read "NO OUTSIDE OPINIONS ALLOWED" next to a stack of "I’m Just Here to Learn" tote bags.
Inside, an influencer, clearly too comfortable in her emotional bubble, sat on a beanbag, attempting to express a thought. “Honestly, I think we should start cancelling everyone who uses emojis as political statements.” She paused, biting her lip and eyeing the safety certification on the wall. “Do you think that’s a safe opinion?”
The SafeSpace Consultant, a middle-aged man in a pastel-coloured turtleneck, appeared instantly at her side. "Emotional safety requires careful consideration of your inner context. Let's debrief your statement in a trigger-free zone first."
As he led the influencer into a side room for a “preemptive distress evaluation,” the Woke Hipsters gathered, growing increasingly agitated.
"They’re making emotion into a marketable product!" one shouted, sipping his organic oat milk latte. "What’s next? Emotional detox retreats? Paid therapy sessions? I saw an ad on Instagram that called it a trauma gym!"
A particularly agitated hipster stood up, shaking her head. "We can’t let them profit off our pain, but first, let me post about how problematic this is on Instagram." She took out her phone, but froze. "Wait, should I use a filter or is that cultural appropriation?"
