Tired of Talking


I would wish you all a happy mid-terms, but that would be an oxymoron and I try to avoid morons of all types. Speaking of morons, I totally felt like one after taking my AP English mid term. Transcendentalism? Nature? The only times I’m ever outside are the brief moments between me going to or from my car and whatever building I’m parked outside of. Needless to say, I felt ill equipped to write an essay on the topic. I said something on paper when I felt like I didn’t really have much to say at all. But that’s only because I had to.

People do an awful lot of saying on things they know nothing about. More times than not, it’s not for a grade either. Most of the time, they aren’t sitting at a desk, scratching around the seemingly desolate crvices of their mind for a tidbit of insight on what the heck Thoreau was talking about. Usually, they’re just talking about nothing.

Well, nothing in retrospect- but in the moment I can assure you they think they’re talking about something monumental.  Are you ever in a group of people, and you’re just standing there, listening to kids go off at the mouth about things you know that they have no real knowledge about? Or even worse, have you ever been in a convo where the person you’re talking to is straight up lying to you?

Oh my gaaawwd, I cannot stand that. It drives me nuts. Just yesterday, I was listening to one of my friends bitch incessantly about this other girl (who really didn’t do anything wrong) and she begins to tell me this story which is completely riddled with lies. Like come on. How sophomoric can you be? And you’re not even a sophomore! Ugh! People these days.

And lying to me especially, how rude. You as my readers know that I pride myself on being ahead of the game, and that includes knowing everything. Everything that’s relevant at least.

Another thing which I’m totally done with? Seeing people look oh-so0-surprised when I walk out of a bathroom stall into their dirty little conversations about things they- you guessed it, know nothing about. Maybe correcting them on their factual ineptitude is a little rude on my part, but it’s a freaking bathroom. What do you expect? That no one has to pee during the day? Well, to all catty girls who use the restroom as their gossip cave, I hate to break it to you but a girl’s gotta go when she’s gotta go. Another damper on your parade: we can hear you from the stalls. Those aren’t sound proof walls. Shocking, I know.

It’s exhausting, honestly. Hearing kids just blabbering. The urge to correct them is hard to  resist. So I rarely do. I mean maybe I sound a little backwards. I complain about how no one ever talks about anything interesting, and then when people try to make it interesting, I feel the need to call them out on fabrication or lack of competence on their subject matter.

I suppose it’s just hard to ignore when sometimes the subject matter is you. Think about it. Not that I’ve walked into the restroom to hear people taking about me- oh wait I have. Oops, I guess there’s no qualifier for my total and incomplete tolerance for the spewing of bullshit. But a qualifier? For this? I shouldn’t even need one.

Until next time,



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