Introvert’s Lament

My life continues in a vein of glitter, show girls, and bright lights. I am happy with that which concerns and affects me most days. Though I confess that I do not always show my appreciation with maximum productivity. Still I am enjoying my winking, blinking perpetual joy train. I don’t want to obscure my gratitude with the fleeting clouds of a frivolous discontent, but this day -vixen that she is- was so laden with the barbarisms of America’s ‘look at me’ culture that I can’t just shake my head and move on. So for a moment, I am going to uselessly complain about things that won’t stop happening.

Please stop apologizing for interrupting me. Instead, stop interrupting me. You do not have the right of way in this discourse. No amount of being older or younger or male-er or whiter or blacker or thinking you’re right or being tired of listening to me gives you the right to cut off my thought. You don’t actually know what I’m going to say yet. And I’m plenty tired of listening to you and I never cut you off. So just check yourself.

I’m not 25 anymore, so I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt that your peers have led you to believe that you’re funny, and you don’t actually mean anything that you say. Because how could you? When you’re stealing headlines from the internet and inserting them out-of-context into unrelated conversations. Upon further probing it’s clear that you have no depth of interest or real knowledge of the topic, you just wanted to say something startlingly random and make everyone laugh so you could feel like the big man for a moment. I will call you Chuckles. That is not an affectionate

And you. You’re older than me, so I was thinking you knew better. But actually your corny, entitled, lowbrow, self-aggrandizing, bullshit windbagging is so constant and thoroughgoing I find myself in a state of unwilling awe. Buried under your avalanches of grating, stale, extraneous verbiage, I’m going blue from all the oxygen you have sucked out of the room. Your forked silver tongue gouts rivers pure with modern evil: self-promoting individual-brand sloganized soul and content-free marketing. You are a breathing, eating, shitting tagline. You so quickly taint and dismay my heart I sometimes wonder  if you are the devil.  But I am certain he does not talk as much.


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