11.26.2012

blood in my mouth beats blood on the ground.

at Monday, November 26, 2012
I am going to complain about my generation again, surprise surprise.
Just a heads up if you aren't in the mood for sass.

Why is everything disposable to us?
 "I just got this stupid iPhone 4S a month ago it sucks, I need the 5."

I am sick to death of hearing incessant complaining from you little brats. I am sorry but seriously, come on. Maybe I see things differently because nothing was handed to me in my life. I understood that if something was wanted you worked your ass off until it was yours. If it wasn't up to your expectations and you regretted the purchase, well...that's unfortunate because now you are stuck with it. I feel like I am constantly overhearing stories of everyone's parents getting them out of things. You are an adult. Seriously? This isn't the olden days when we would all be living with our parents until marriage at the tender age of twenty. This is 2012. Graduate school, get off your ass, move out. Grow up. Don't complain to me about money because your parents make you pay your own rent. Do you even know how much your bills are? Let alone pay them? One of my friends recently discovered that I don't receive financial assistance from anyone (an adult taking care of themselves, shocker I know) and her response was "How do you even afford all of that?" Well, you see budgeting isn't hard when you know you don't have mommy and daddy right behind you if you default. Guess what happens if grown ups don't follow through with responsibilities? They get their things taken away by the nice man at the bank and get slapped with a credit score that will consistently bend them over for the entirety of their lives. "What's a credit score?" Shut up.

You can't sign a lease, buy a car, or take out a house loan then turn around and say "Nah, I don't want this anymore." That isn't how life works. You make a big kid decision, and you stick with it. Is that why marriages don't last anymore? People make big decisions knowing that all they have to do is change their minds and they are done? There isn't accountability for anything. Since when does life give you exactly what you want when you want it? Where can I sign up for this? Anyone? 

Moral of the story, do you know how lucky we are? To even have access to read this blog? To go in your bathroom and excrete the hoards of overly available food into water cleaner than most of the world drinks? Sometimes I hate how hard it is to maintain a comfortable life; it's stressful, expensive, depressing at times. But when you get right down to it, I thank my lucky stars that I am able to do it. I respect my life, and I know wherever it goes will be because of me and me alone. It's a great feeling, try it. 




2 comments:

Unknown on November 26, 2012 at 12:13 PM said...

Well said! Some people feel some sort of entitlement and it's ridiculous. I've always heard "Use it up. Wear it out. Make it do or do without."
I love your "rambling." ;)

Unknown on November 26, 2012 at 12:22 PM said...

... you mean, you actually freeze water to keep your water cold? We are so spoiled in America and everyone is guilty for taking it for granted. It's all we know. However, I am SO tired of people who make adult decisions and fall back on mommy and daddy. I am glad I don't have that luxury because I am actually able to function on my own and claim independence. As are you! YAY US! I am so worried about today's generation and the future of America. We are all spoiled rotten brats who take everything for granted and yes although I receive a lot of financial assistance from the government through student loans, (which may make me somewhat spoiled, maybe?) it will be my responsibility to pay them back after I graduate. I have to find job and I have to find a place to live without the assistance of my parents. Not only do they live no where near here for me to crash if I can't play rent but also I need a job because they will not be paying my loans for me. TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR OWN ACTIONS YOU SPOILED BRATS. FUCK.

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