Empty Promises, Full Regret | Teen Ink

Empty Promises, Full Regret

November 5, 2017
By suzpeckham BRONZE, E Syracuse, New York
suzpeckham BRONZE, E Syracuse, New York
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Let me just say this.

 

Life is full of empty promises. It’s just something that we have to accept. We don’t mean what we say and we don’t ever say what we mean. Promise your kids that there isn’t a monster in the closet? Sure. There isn’t a six-legged, hairy freak hiding among their jeans and t-shirts but there is one down the road. He’s registered with the state as a sex offender. Monster. Promise your daughter you’ll always protect her heart? Sure. Can you really protect her from the asshole who didn’t keep his empty promises? No, you can’t


You are destined to make the same mistakes on a loop. We want to know a secure future, we want our kids to know that same security—even if in the moment we don't feel it ourselves. How can I, an eighteen-year-old, single, high school student possibly know this? Well, that’s easy. I know it because that’s all I want for myself. I want the empty promises to stop. It’s so easy to say you will do something but then a few days later allow it to fall by the wayside. We’ve all done it. The best and worst of us. You probably did it at least twice in the past week. Promised your parents you’d finally clean up your room. You didn’t. Promised your brother or sister that you’d sit and play video games with them for a while. As expected, you didn’t.


That can’t be that bad, right? A few empty promises about useless stuff, no big deal. But okay, think about it this way: you’re going to die tomorrow. Those promises are going to mean something now. You’d do whatever your parents asked of you. You’d design an entire video game for your sibling. What prevents us from having this attitude in everyday life?


Maybe we can attribute it to the fact that people are total narcissistic assholes. Maybe our parents did a collectively s*** job of raising us. No matter what way you slice it—this generation is F***ED. Seriously. There is no hope for us. We are way too far gone into our Snapchats, Instagram posts and incoherent one hundred forty character blathers.

 

A failure to understand.

 

A concept that I think will always remain incredibly foreign to me is the inability for people in this godforsaken generation to maintain privacy. What is it with people posting everything about their life? First of all, honey, you aren’t that interesting. Last time I checked you didn’t bear the name Kardashian or Jenner. They aren’t even that interesting either, so don’t count yourself for something special. Secondly, I don’t need to see you trying to pull off a pair of over-washed acid jeans and a crop top that might count as a rag if you hold it the right way.


Maybe, just maybe, you’re an aspiring model. Can you sense my eyes rolling at that one? It’s utter bullshit. You aren’t a model. You’re a b**** with a Snapchat. Stop posting about your “ex” who left you high and dry for another version of you, and yes, she’s better than you. Don‘t give yourself away to a bunch of like-minded apes who aren’t ever going to appreciate you as a person. Just as a makeshift centerfold in their scrapped Playboy.


That goes for guys too. Keep your shirts on. It isn’t that hard. We don’t want to see your “abs” and your three chest hairs fighting to make an appearance for the ‘gram. On top of that girls really don’t want to see you posing with six other guys who look exactly like you at some party where you probably took one hit on a joint, gagged and then acted like Spicoli for the night. Keep that behavior to yourself and your cult following.

 

Nothing is more annoying.

 

Okay, so you’ve made it to this point. Great. What could there possibly be left to talk about? Oh, trust me, there’s plenty. But, I’ll spare you for now. I only want to talk about the last piece that is really important to this whole things and that’s the lying. God, everyone lies. All the time. About everything. This comes around full circle to the first point. We lie, it’s inevitable. However, we can control how much we lie about. Be a better human. Don't lie to those who love you. It takes a lot for someone to admit they love you. If you treat them badly, it slowly breaks them and you strip away any humanity they have. You’ll be the jerk who broke someone. If you can live with that, then be my guest. Destroy their heart. Rip it from their chest a little bit more every time you open your trap to spew another lie.


It’s become who we are as a generation. People complain that we’re full of ourselves, and we are focused on our online lives. They aren’t wrong. Except, we’re liars. We lie about our happiness, our sadness, our money, our sex lives. We lie about anything and everything. Why? Who knows.


Lie. Lie. Lie. It's our MO. Our modus operandi. Something we can’t nor will ever change, we are pigs.


The author's comments:

I sat down and wrote one night about everything I'd been feeling lately. This was the product of that. I wrote how I felt, scanned it for errors and didn't look back. 


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