You’re exactly the definition of “hot mess” that dictionaries are straining for. I mean look at you. I can’t even look at you for five seconds, instead of the multiple hours that the world has to suffer looking at your mug. Stop being selfish and put yourself away.</p>
Oh, so I’m being belligerent for “no reason,” huh?
Well who cares? I don’t. I don’t care that you won that award for excellent academics or the medal you got for saving those children from that burning building. I couldn’t care less about the key to the city you “earned” when you discovered the cure for the parseltongue that’s been going around lately. There could be nothing that would make me more emotional on the singular topic of “you,” so I’m going to avoid that letter for the rest of the column.
It’s the worst how so many people deign to award thyself with objects of merit, awards and things that show how “great” a person you are; it’s horrible.
Yes, only since the celestial origins of solar power started to show itself again recently and everyone’s spirits have soared; that doesn’t mean that we should give a person everything they deserve.
I’m not bitter. Nope. It doesn’t matter to me if the awards show how great yo* are, or that thy accomplishments involve becoming a top model, the belle of the ball and on the cover of so many magazines; it pains me how great thy rep’ has become.
You know what? No. I’m breaking my “u” ban.
Here I am, trying to graduate like a normal student at this reputable post-secondary, and you just waltz in, younger than I am, and accomplish infinitely more.
Like, what am I supposed to do? Try harder?! I have (up to) five courses this term, and I can barely walk up the stairs to my house because I’m lazy. I can’t just buckle down, get my assignments done on time and become a “merit to society” like some people (I’m glaring at you). Some of us have to sit around like jerks and watch the paint dry like other untalented people. I have motivations to pursue my own projects, but I don’t because meh. But you walk past during convocation and accept your triple-major master’s degree and don’t expect me to want to better myself?
If you become you, you deserve it. I know it, you know it, he/she knows it, we know it, you plural know it and they know it.
We’re approaching our own graduation and the fear of the future is so scary that I won’t even finish my
That means we have officially grown up, we’re “adults” and we must contribute to the future in one form or another. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I don’t believe that you do either, because you’re a filthy liar and deserve nothing but a severe redecorating. But as you read the last column I’ve written on mass speculation and wild scenarios, remember: everything is going to happen. EVERYTHING.
Lasers will become a stable method of wars and conflict. Food will become pills and even less affordable. You will think your daughter is dating a bad person and don’t agree with what they’re wearing. Sandwiches will become a phobia of yours to which no therapy can fix. You will be part of a loving seven-way harem where two other of your gender are involved. Computers will enslave, then become enslaved, then become outlawed, then become lovers in the future. Everyone will become allergic to fiberglass. Wood will suddenly combust when insulted.
Everything will happen in the future. Just be ready. For EVERYTHING.