Grow Up: You Selfish, Arrogant, Self-Satisfied, Narcissistic, Ignorant, Small-Minded, Clueless, Immature, Childish, Self-Centered, Lying, Worthless, Non-Redeemable, Insignificant, Moot Points in Space and Wastes of Time
Words do not properly serve me in the obliteration of specific examples of mankind as I so wish they could.
So . . . Wish . . .
This is not High School. Life is not High School. The World does not operate anywhere near to the same mechanics as a High School does: that is not how existence functions. High School is an oslated community of individuals who are teenagers and, thus, ignorant.
Teenagers don't know shit about fuck. I, as a teenager, didn't know fuck squat, I didn't have a clue what life truly meant or was like. Yeah, you may have experiences that make you more mature than another teenager in some regard, but understand that once you reach adulthood—true, actual adulthood—you will look back and know that you didn't know fucking anything, in the end.
In fact, if you look back on your teenaged years, and don't see how you've changed, grown, matured, developed psychologically, socially, emotionally, intellectually, pragmatically, then you may as well check yourself into Fuckwit Motel and get yourself a bed with Miss Mary Moron. She doesn't charge much, but that's because she only counts to fourteen and a half.
High School knows this. High School knows how silly and blissfully unaware teenagers are. It is constructed in such a way as to allow for this and to accomodate this fact. High School is a haven for teenagers: a place for them to experience a tiny slice of the world, instead of as a whole, and adjust yourself just to that before reality opens your rectum up wide and sticks its entire damn fist inside, full-force and without mercy or remorse—like the really fucking lame lyrics of some metal song.
You don't know this when you're in High School, 'cause you're just a teen. A silly, little, adorable teenager who thinks he knows things and understands the world and has puzzledo ut the intricate weavings and windings of the world in all its different ways. You're a teen, you think you know it all, and you don't, so nobody treats you like you do, which is what you want, and that makes you upset, so you believe that it's you against the rest of the world and everything is so hard and so difficult and so set against you in every way. Wah, wah, wah, this little piggy cried all the way fucking home—you're wrong.
When I see teenagers nowadays, with their cute opinions and righteous convictions, I just want to pat them on the head, and coo and say, "Aw, it's just so great how you are so wrong! You don't know anything, and you think you do, and I just want to pinch your chubby cheeks! You're in an emotionally and physically tumultous time and you're trying your very best to cope with how things are, now, and have no idea how things will be, in the future! That's googy, to use an outdated Gothgirl term."
Just give 'em a big hug and reassure them that everything will be a thousandfold worse down the line for you, in that everything gets harder and more difficult and less forgiving and stops compensating for you.
No, it's not teenagers who I wish to see combust through only the might of my prayers to God.
No.
You're twenty-one, twenty-two.
You're in college.
And you're still a teen, in your head.
And it's still High School, in your mind.
And you really ought to do me a favour and drink antifreeze.
And die.
High School will give you the benefit of the doubt. It will let you play the disgruntled and malcontent teenager who seeks to "outsmart" and "trick" the adults and the "mundanes" or the "sheep" or whatever stupid terminology you've conjured up to describe people who aren't you or your fellow brethren. When you're in High School and a teen, you can get away with stupid shit, through bullshit means, because the adults who administer these situations were there, at some point in their past, and they know what it feels like, how nothing makes complete sense, and they hand-wave your misbehavings and let you get by thinking you've "won."
Understand that you won nothing, outsmarted nobody, and are not a clever little boy or girl. You weren't smarter than they were, you didn't cunningly manauver your way out of the consequences for your actions—the consequences you received were exactly the ones you were going to receive, unless you further aggravated the authority and they increased. No. You, at best, kowtow your way out of serious punishment, but you get what you get, no matter what convuluted and retarded logic only a teenager could conjecture you may have presented.
In the real world, it doesn't fly like that. Businesses and jobs, institutions and authorites are not going to wrap you on the proverbial knuckles with a figurative ruler and let it slide that you're clueless. If you get out of High School and you still are trying to get by on teenaged logic and tactics, you're in for a realisation, sometime, once you wake up from your deliriously hilarious stupor. There are no fourth, fifth, sixth chances. There is no amnesty for ludicrous irresponsibility and juvenile deliquency. You will not be forgiven.
In the real world, you can't bullshit your way out of things. People will not nod and smile while you lie and attempt to manipulate them into believing that you didn't fuck up, that it wasn't your fault. No, fucker, it was, and there's no two ways around it, no escape, no relenting, no blame-passing. The passive aggressive retardation that governs the teenaged mind and is alloted for in High School does not exist outside of that institution of education and maturation. Think of it as an incubation process for unhatched eggs—congratulations, you're an official living being and now you will lose your head if you put your neck out too far where it doesn't belong and should never have been.
Accept the responsibility. Take the blame. 'Fess up to the fault. Mea culpa, my bad, my fault, I'm sorry. Shit happens. People fuck up. It's life. It's reality. It's irreversible. Unchangeable. Inevitable. Predetermined, even. Fate.
Sometimes, you gotta take the fall. You gotta admit the mistake. Face the error. Face your error. Face your faults, your flaws, what you lack, your weaknesses, deficiencies. They'll leave you out to dry; when the roosters comes to roost, you better not have laid an egg. Take it like a man, like an adult, like a mature individual who realises the entrappings of existence, the workings of the world. That things have to be dealt with,can't be pushed to the back, passed off, glanced over, skimmed.
There's no speed-reading for existence, fucko. You skip pages in the book, you're going to be left high and dry, confused and bewildered, not sure what happened and why your ass is on fire. If you can't handle this, you may as well get the fuck off this planet, out of this race.
School's out forever.
