Dear Angst-Ridden Teenager with Blog
01. Jun, 2006
3 Comments
Dear Angst-Ridden Teenager with Blog,
I want you to know that I truly understand you.
Nobody gets you, right? Nobody knows what it’s like to suffer what you suffer. Your parents don’t understand the pressures of being a young, Evanescence-obsessed gothic poseur, so they’re always snooping around your stuff. The kids in your school don’t understand that your eye makeup is an extention of who you are, so they look at you funny and judge you.
I understand.
Now please shut the fuck up.
Your parents snoop through your stuff because you’re weird and they want to make sure you’re not sniffing magic markers or something. And the other kids in school look at you funny because you deliberately provoke them into doing so.
Face it; you’re weird because you want to be weird. Somewhere deep inside, you like being the object of the “he’s not going to eat me, is he?” stares. And that’s fine. But you don’t get to be a martyr.
You see this kid? His name is a series of clicks and whistles, so I’ll call him Sven.
Sven has real problems. Sven’s starving; his body is eating itself because, no matter how times he chirps and clicks at his mother, she doesn’t have any food. He lives in squalor, merely trying to keep the flies off his eyeballs long enough to get a few moments’ peace. He has no computer to express himself with. Hell, he doesn’t even have a toilet.
Look at Sven for a few moments and then tell me about your problems. You have food on the table and a computer in your room. You have clothes to wear. True, your evil parents may insist that you occasionally wear something with some color in it, but hey – you’re covered and you stay warm.
Yeah, yeah. You’re depressed. And depression is a valid medical condition for which we have an entire minibar of drugs to deal with. If you’re clinically depressed, I’ll cut you some slack, ’cause you’re mentally ill.
But most of you aren’t. Most of you are just ungrateful little fucks who’d rather complain on your computer than get up off your ass and do something. And you don’t get any of my sympathy. Okay. rant done.
Love,
Pip
Pip is a picker, he's a grinner. He's a lover and he's a sinner.
Well put. Now the next course of action is to firebomb the Livejournal servers.
What was that all about?
I’m very confused about this blog. Lots of
way off topic stuff here!
‘way off topic’?
’supposed to be about’?
IT’S A BLOG! there aren’t any topics and it isn’t supposed to be about anything in particular! that’s what a blog is.