I am twenty-five, and feeling older than most people I call contemporaries. The things I like have gone by, just like the times they were alive in. I like the classics- be it reading, music or even movies. And in my love for all things old school, I seemed to have picked up the mannerisms of an era gone by. This could be why I feel older with my peers, probably also the reason why they find me boring. But just how does being a responsible drinker, planning a future, and keeping troubles at bay make me…uninteresting? 

No, I’m not ‘boring’. I just happen to have the human decency to think about others alongside me. It’s called civic sense, look it up.

If you drive within the speed limit on a busy road, play music that limits itself to your room, and mind your own business without disrupting that of others – that concern is tagged boring. Am I? I don’t think so. Get a grip, you guys. You’d be the first to fire weapons if the next door neighbour blasts his speakers in the middle of the night, you’re also the ones who lose their shit over ‘bad taste in music’ that others seem to have. There would be those around who think the same about you too. A little concern for others hurt nobody.

I am all game for having fun and leaving on spontaneous trips, impulsive sprees, and the likes. But it cannot be something that’s done every other day, not for me at least. You will go nuts explaining about the bitch called a hangover, but that really won’t deter them from getting sloshed on Sunday and turning up at work as though they’ve been caught unawares. Why put yourself through the same vicious cycle on every weekend? Why not get drunk on Saturday instead? A little planning harmed nobody, right?

When I give you my place to crash, you’re not supposed to crash it down in return. Can we treat others’ place like we treat our own?

We all, at some point, have had to hide the fact that we’re high on spirits. There’s a decorum we’ve been forced to maintain when we’ve been drunk and have had to face our parents. Most of us, I’m sure managed without a meltdown. I’ve somehow managed to get home thus myself and gotten myself home without bringing down the doors of my neighbours. It’s the very little things you need to. Also, please flush after puking your guts out. People live there, it’s not a guest house.

I’ve grown to hate the words, ‘Could you do that for me too?’. It (mostly) entails me doing the work while the reaper of benefits lounges on the bed, scrolling through Instagram.

It’s hilarious how people so comfortably take fellow people for granted. I used to have a friend come over time and again. The visits would always end with her lounging on the couch, updating herself on social media, while I cooked dinner after a hard day at work. 

How do people follow through such douchery? Does your conscience not rise in protest? Get up, do the dishes, pass on the ingredients, try making conversation, do anything than lie there, looking entitled. You’re most definitely not.

Just when did being a dick become the coolest thing of the era? How does being the most hated person in the room become something positive?

‘Any publicity is good publicity’ seems to have seeped in too deep. I don’t know why, but being a bitch or an utter douche has become a fad. I perfectly understand the need to find an identity for oneself and sticking to the choices one makes, but what’s so brag-worthy about being a complete dick to people? The popularity you garner from your juvenile, self-destructive, hatred is the outside world introducing itself to ‘how not to be an asshole’. Be ready for when Karma chooses to bite your ass.

Some age we live in, where good manners are looked down upon. Not being cocky, but a little thought over the people who are bound to live with you will only do more good than harm. It makes you sympathetic, empathetic, and a human that other humans can put up with. The world needs more kindness, it can’t just go out of style.