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Some things are best expressed in short bursts of disbelief

Some things are best expressed in short bursts of disbelief

I know, I know, Millennials have already shortened everything so do we really need to allow them to not confront things and just use ‘short bursts of disbelief’? The answer is yes. I know myself and I so happen to know my friends and close acquaintances as well and I can say this, it’s better for our health to say WTF and walk away than to have to sit someone hopeless down and level/discuss/argue with them. For every annoying, exciting, shocking and surprising thing, I’ve managed to be able to answer in short startled question exclamations. Case in point: WTF?!

There are specific moments though, without fail, that will literally have you so shocked you do the eye-pop-eye-roll (Blair Waldorf taught me this) and it’s the only reaction that suffices and won’t land you in jail.

DAFT FOLKS.

These are all the dumb, ignorant, blind, intolerant, uncultured, unchangeable, dumb stupid people we meet from day to day. Most of the time they’re thrust upon you at parties or work functions or any other social gathering for that matter. You would not know or speak to any of these people willingly and would never be caught dead calling them friend or even admitting you kinda know them in public (I can’t speak for family on this one, you’re sort of stuck with those ones). But these are the people whose presence is mash-up of uncomfortable and annoying and when they open their mouths to talk you’re just like…

Rihanna

 

Subtext: There’s just no way your brain works like that. Are you on meds? Am I being punked?

STOP. ANGER TIME.

We live in a rage age, that’s a fact. Everybody is literally always at tipping point. Y’know, like that song ‘Don’t push me cause I’m close to the edge/I’m trying not to lose my head’? We’re all just trying to keep our heads above the rage water here. Seriously. And living in Jo’burg I can attest to just how close people are to killing each other every day on these roads and bank queus. Even the smallest thing can set a Joburger off because – I’m convinced – they live their lives on ‘Come at me bru’ mode. And when you have a run-in with these beautiful dark creatures, male and female, and whether you’re taking your time reversing out of a parking spot or bump them in a pub or club, or laugh out loud in the cinema house, you will not be disappointed. They will hulk out on you. And you, coming from a normal city like Cape Town or Pretoria, have to bite your tongue while the green rage monster has his moment, like…

f2

Subtext: I’m actually equally peeved but I feel like a have more to lose here. It’s so hard being civilised.

EXES. AMIRIGHT?

Ex-classmates, ex-friends, ex-workpeople, ex effing boyfriends. Amicable splitsville or not, I’m not trying to have your life all up in my grill. Yes, maybe sometimes I strike up communication because I need someone’s contacts/need my favorite green blazer back/need a reference/am lonely AF, but please avoid me when you’re happy. Whether these people from your cosy past managed to get into a better university/managed to be normal/get better jobs/move on (a couple of times!), you’re just not keen. It’s not something you wanna swim in, honestly. So when an ex anything sends you a jolly above-it-all message or invite to anything like ‘Omg, how’ve you been?’ or like ‘Omg, please come to my party!’, I’m like OMG…

f1

Subtext: Who the hell cares, spaz?! OR I’m obviously still scarred by you, please shut your face.

SHIT HAPPENS.

Oftimes, as confused 20somethings in our crazy busy lives that are full of meaning, we find that shit really does happen. A LOT. Not because we deserve it or allow it or whatever, it just does. We cry and freak out and stress out a lot because every day is like a box of shit chocolates, you never know what shit you’re gonna get. But, you know it’ll definitely be there. And so we’ve formulated our individual defense against the shit arts mechanisms. Don’t wanna be late? Be super early. You want that promotion? Work your butt of and be that weirdo who’s the first one in and last one out the office. Want a better body? Be healthier, baby! You have a sneaky suspicion it might rain and don’t wanna get soaked? Try carrying an umbrella, dude. Tired of getting your heart broken? Date healthy-minded dudes and learn how to be a better judge of character, dummy. BUT. You’re a 20something so this is what you find out, the rain is too strong and the wind blows your pathetic little umbrella away, you hop on the scale and find that you’ve actually put on a kilo, and that nice guy you started dating is a closet sociopath, and you’re just like…

fckery

Subtext: Really? Seriously? This is what happens when I actually try? Whatevs. (Que hipster mentality, existentialist crisis)

So there you have it. We already have sooo much happening in our lives, do we really need to address and confront everything? No. Some things are better just ended with a sigh and an ‘I’m out’. It’s exhausting to take everything seriously. So even when I am pissed off or confused or shocked beyond, I take a breathe and think ‘Do I really wanna get into this?’ and the answer is no way, I’ll stick to my  short inner bursts of disbelief. So to addressing all the crazy out there…

Icant

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