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Fuck this!

Fuck casually bigoted relatives. Fuck those family occasions where someone will say something appalling and you’ll have to be like “ahahaha that’s an interesting opinion but have you perhaps considered the literal opposite?” instead of smacking them upside the head with their own plate of seasonal hors d’oeuvres and strolling off into the sunset. Fuck having to engage politely with people who are unwilling to educate themselves and yet demand that your arguments come fully fucking annotated with footnotes from “impartial sources,” whatever the fuck that means. Why the fuck should I have to hold myself in check to spare your feelings, when you clearly couldn’t care less about mine?

Fuck surprise raisins. Fuck cinnamon buns that look raisin-free until you bite into them and – surprise! Raisins. Fuck grocery store butter tarts that are secretly – surprise! Raisin tarts. Fuck chocolate-chip muffins that turn out to be carrot raisin, and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies that are actually oatmeal raisin.

Fuck war. Fuck imperialism. Fuck capitalism. Fuck the Lebanese garbage crisis. Fuck Seasonal Affective Disorder. Fuck inaccessible academic theory and fuck academia. Fuck the job market. Fuck convocation. Fuck settler-colonialism. Fuck the immigration industrial-complex. Fuck Justin Trudeau. Also, fuck the fact that there’s nowhere to go except back home or staying in Canada? What is home anyway? What do you do if you’re not rich? Fuck money honestly. Fuck weapons development research that McGill students undertake, fuck universities that sell weapons research to the highest military contractor who uses it on real-life brown people next door.

Fuck profs who seem cool until you find out that they sleep with students. I was looking forward to going to your class until I heard! Fuck how, now whenever you make a funny joke I don’t want to encourage you! Fuck the cool music you play, fuck the fact that nothing good ever stays good. Fuck the fact that there seems to be one of these profs in every faculty.

Fuck the fact that strike wages are higher than my actual job wages. What the fuck? Do you not get how messed up that is? Like, picketing could actually be profitable to me. Fuck the casualisation and undervaluing of employees. Fuck suppression of worker’s rights in the workplace. Fuck capitalism, of course. And fuck my boss.

Fuck my meds. I feel bad when I take them and feel bad when I don’t. Fuck my ableist parents. Fuck being told my entire life that I was bad for not being able to be productive. Fuck my psychiatrist and the psychiatric system. Fuck not having money for therapy. Fuck being made to feel like my abuse wasn’t “that bad.” Fuck unhappy and traumatic childhoods. Fuck feelings of self-hatred and inadequacy. Fuck Hollywood horror films that cast psychotic people as inherently villainous. Literally fuck everyone who will dress up as a psychiatric patient for Halloween.