Someone Told Me To Go F*ck Myself Today

Someone told me to go fuck myself today.

That’s not really what they said, but that’s what they meant.

They couched it in a passive-aggressive statement — all nice-like, but ultimately turning back toward the end of their spiel, telling me something that was the complete opposite of what I wanted to hear.

That’s a problem with this generation. It will be a problem with the next one too, if that one says anything at all.

Nobody says what they mean anymore. Nobody talks in plain language. Nobody knows how to just come out and say:

“I’m not interested.”

What people do now is dance around a subject, lead you on, play with your emotions. They do this out of fear — fear that one day you might come back and destroy them.

Not literally. But like, you know, they might need you for something down the line. And heaven forbid you harbor a grudge.

“Don’t take it personal,” they’ll say. But you’re a person. You take everything personally.

There’s an awkward verbal joust we’ve all become accustomed to. We use soft, non-descriptive language to convey actual human emotions. Everything is phrased like a question, even when we’re giving an answer.

It’s not nice. It’s not even helpful. It’s more offensive than actually, you know, being offensive. It’s just a way of saying a whole bunch of nothing, really.