Strong Sarcasm | Bullies
Strong Sarcasm | Bullies
Welcome to Strong Sarcasm, a blog segment written and realized through the masterful use of positivity. If you didn’t understand sarcasm before you came here. You likely will after, or at least I hope so.
Starting with Bullying.
Don’t you just love it when people don’t value themselves and decide to berate others to feel better about their lives and shortcomings? That is what makes young adult life so very easy. What would we do without those bullies that make us question our self-worth?
I remember going into school not interested in learning the material and actually getting a decent education, but waiting for the wonderful little quips some of my peers had prepared for me. I especially loved the ones targeted at identification. “You aren’t really black”. “Stop lying”. “But you look white”. “ You were adopted”. I would think. “These people must have been there when my Black mother gave birth to me, not me.”
They surely had every understanding of genetics and biology… What intelligent lifeforms… Yes indeed. I never thought that I wanted to punch the crap out of these kids. Or that part of their brain must’ve bypassed the development stage. Perhaps when they were disrupting class by dancing on the table, and the remaining amount that was functional just… slipped out.
Bullying as a child is one thing. As a child, you are young and developing, with strange hormones frantically barreling through your body. Sometimes you cannot differentiate between emotions and actions. So bullying is always better in adults. It’s a sure-fire way to discover maturity.
I will say, some kids go through really difficult events in their lives, bullies are often the result of social distress, or distress at home. That girl that you bullied or disrespected, you may not have known, but she was also struggling in her life. Her parents were going through a divorce, and she was at risk of being homeless. If you had asked, you would have known. Perhaps you could’ve made her life a little easier, too, because I guarantee she could have used a friend. And she didn’t abuse you just because she was struggling in her life.
So, to put a cheerful spin on this…
Don’t be a dick.
Writer & Editor
Vivian Alice
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Yup
im a simple gal. people raise their voices at me, i cry for an hour
If you need help. Get help it will be the best thing you every fucking do. Not to say it will be easy. It will take time, but it's worth it.
what depression is really like:
not showering regularly
not bushing your teeth regularly
living in filth
caring about your grades but not enough to do anything about them
thinking about suicide more than graduating
considering suicide whenever any problem arises
tired
no motivation
no energy
walking is so hard
sometimes even talking is too much work because you’re so god damn tired
laying in bed for hours because you’re too tired to move
feeling nothing but sometimes everything
knowing you’re not alone but still feeling alone
that constant mindset of, “Who cares? I wont be around much longer anyways.”
How to start...
I just want to be as honest as possible and get some things off my chest I haven't been able to say out loud.
I don't have any followers so I have no reason to pretend. I have no reason to act different than I am for the crowd. No one on here gives a single fuck about what I do or say.
So let's begin...
It hurts so bad that we let this happen to us.
I believe when George said this, he was speaking for everyone who lives on Mother Earth. No matter what country you’re from.
Rest forever young, George Carlin.
Bwahahaha!!!
the pope, or as i like to call him, the hokage of the catholic church
Sigh*
My mind is like an internet browser. 17 tabs are open, 4 of them are frozen and I don’t know where the music is coming from.
Yup
◕ ᴥ ◕
Hahahaha I'm dying! It's so true!
i always thought of a king sized bed as being a bit bigger than a queen, but now that i have one, i can tell you that a king sized bed is an absurdity. i can sprawl out, and my husband can sprawl out, and the cat can sprawl out, and none of us are touching. i reach out in the night, and find only pillows and plush walruses. i reach further and eventually find his elbow. he rolls over the comforters to try and find me. “i have crossed oceans of bed to be with you,” he says. there is a vast expanse of bed untouched, unmapped, unexplored. the cat is still trying to sleep on my face.
Actually.
Somebody better call Saul.
whoever the fuck invented arm fat will be speaking to my lawyers
