Someone told me that everyone has their own stories to tell, and that no matter how incapable of wisdom anyone is, I don't have the right to call them idiots per se. Well, I completely disagree.

See, I already know how to take care of my pimples, and I've learned to maintain a wardrobe that isn't just black shirts and ripped jeans. Love isn't like a rosary, and a condom isn't something you just flash in your wallet. There is always a hundred-something ways to cheat in your finals, and shouting out loud how many beers you've already had isn't really a fantastic display of "cool," whatever the hell that means.
Redundancy isn't exactly a practical habit, and unless you're a fan of yesterday's garbage, there really is no reason for you to be wasting your time.
So does that mean I'm calling them idiots? I've been there, and if anything's right on the butt, it's that it's really an uncomfortable phase. Maybe they'll grow out of it, so I'd tell you to ask me again in five years.
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