Heya. I decided to do my first proper post now. It’s as good a time as any, am I right? Now. You don’t know me. You don’t know who I am what I do, where I’m from etc. Unless I tell you, you’ll never know. Which is why I’m gonna tell you.

I have a name, obviously, but as I’m on the Internet, and under 18 (hint at my age, and it’s all you’re getting!) I’ll call myself Sapphire. Nothing close to my real name, but you can refer to me as this, and provided I don’t forget, I’ll call myself this on here to, and all other names will be changed as well. I’m from England, which is nice. I aspire to be a radio presenter. That’s all I’m gonna tell you at this point; stay tuned for more.

Now, this post is called “Hypocrite”. And there is a reason. I have been irritated recently by some friends of mine recently, as they are hypocrites. At the end of this school year (my god, for those who may know me, I’ve given the game away already) my favourite teacher retired. And I practically died inside. This man guided me through tough moments, gave me a reason to be, gave me a sense of self-worth. And he was leaving. Naturally, given all this, I had a very rough few months prior to his leaving where I had days where I cried a lot, days where I was super irate, days where I full on ignored him and didn’t talk to him. As one would expect from someone who is generally emotionally unstable anyway (I cried when I snapped a Biro once, after chewing on it). I allowed myself to be overridden by emotion and then I expected that this would make the last day easier. Fuck off, it made it easier. Sat in a room with 600 pupils and 20 teachers, while hearing loads of people saying nice stuff about other teachers who were leaving… I was welling up from the start. But when I read his name on the projected screen, I literally headbutted my friend George’s shoulder. And cried. A lot. As in, my whimpers were heard by a teacher on the other side of the hall. Noticing I was crying, my maths teacher (another favourite teacher of mine) walked towards my row, seemingly to discreetly let me know he was there if I needed him. So, it seems a lot of people knew I needed a bit of support in the situation. But not everyone.

You see, people don’t understand why some people form close attachments to certain people. I respect everyone’s right to form close attachments to anyone they see fit, provided they’re appropriate. But some people don’t see this as everyone’s right. I have one friend, who was going to remain nameless, but as I’m changing the names anyway, you’ll never know who it is, named Laura, who mocked me for being this upset, ridiculed me, bullied me. Then they said the phrase which, while true, pisses me right off- “It’s all part of life, so get over it.” Ooh. How does one respond to that? Clearly by making a blog where everyone has pseudonyms and blatantly bitching about them a bit. All deserved of course, otherwise I wouldn’t dream of bitching.

Anyway, Laura made a point a few years ago that she was absolutely devastated by the fact that her favourite artist had decided to not release any more music.  Fair enough. She proclaimed that she was now clinically depressed, she hadn’t eaten for weeks (bullshit, I saw her eating a fucking pie moments before this announcement) and the biggest croc of shit I’ve ever heard- “it’s not a part of life, it’s a serious matter which shouldn’t have happened, and it’s literally the worst thing ever, as it’s torn a hole in my soul” (and here we go, I’ll tell you now, I divert my attention quite easily. Proof? I’ve got the Bee Gees stuck in my head). Shut the front door! I’ll tell you now, she only just got into this artist months before they announced they weren’t gonna make any more music, so it’s not like she was a die hard fan! Chill the fuck out! But, being the understanding person I am, I allowed them to cry on my shoulder. This artist hadn’t made a difference to her life in anyway, other than, she’d spent over 20 pounds on albums. So, she was in a state of emotional distress… crying, getting a bit angry. And it’s not a part of life. Right…

My hypocrite alarm blared so loudly that day she told me a teacher leaving is a part of life that I swear down I had tinnitus for a week.


Cheers for reading.


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