Here we are again,
on the hunt for the most useless first-world-problem we can find.
Maybe it’s a
generation’s thing. The generation unproductive, the generation
inactive, sitting in front of their smartphones and forget about life
in general.
This describes my
life better than it should. I am the person who has to force herself
to stop checking other people’s facebook statues by deleting the
app. And most of the time I’m annoyed by those statues and as a
result I am annoyed of myself for wanting to read those brain
destroying thought of other people.
But that leads us to
the main problem of my short existence. I am afraid of being a human
being (does this even make any sense?)
I am that one person
reading about all the thoughts of the so called normal person and
shaking my head about their bloody human thoughts, knowing that if I
had those thoughts I rather drown my phone in the toilette than
posting them online. (This counts double because my phone is brand
new and purple! Hello, it’s purple!!!)
My inability to act as a
normal human is getting so ridiculous that if I get drunk, I am not
ashamed the next morning for singing 20 terrible songs (happened) or
for falling flat on my face (happened) or for powersliding through a
crowd of people because I slipped on a beer puddle (happened). No, I
am ashamed if I told people my inner thoughts. That doesn’t even
contain embarrassing “I still love you” to silly ex-boyfriends,
but it starts with telling friends I feel like crap from time to time
as well as telling people I would like us to be friends. I mean not
that there weren’t enough really embarrassing things happening to
people at parties like that guy that couldn’t keep his pants up
(buy a belt!) or the girl telling 20 strangers that that one guy
stood her up. Well then why am I embarrassed about talking to people
that I normally wouldn’t talk to?
I am on the hunt for
the solution for my own first-world-problem. If I found one, I’ll
let the world know. Until then, I’ll probably get weirder by the
second.
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