Is this what I was like when I was at my most unhappy? It's a miracle my friends didn't abandon me. It's a miracle they were able to tolerate me.
You know what, Mr. K? Your own attitude has assured you of a course that you will never, ever be able to leave. You make yourself miserable, see the misery in the world, and become more miserable still. You, despite opportunities afforded you that you probably don't deserve, will never get anywhere. You will never be happy, because you won't let yourself see happiness. You dream of it, you speak of it, but you don't know what it really is for you.
Furthermore, I would like to say that you do not sit at lunch with this group, and proceed say that you haven't met any human who restores your faith in humanity, or has given you a reason to like humanity. By doing so you lump my friends and I in with the preps and the twits, the murderers and the thieves, the shallow and the callous. You say that we think and act like everyone else you've ever met.
I don't think so.
We've shown you an extraordinary measure of kindness. We put up with you, we invite you into our group even when you declare that you will pull away, though you never really do. We talk to you and greet you on campus. You benefit from our presence.
With your remarks, you are insulting me. You are insulting our efforts to make friends with you, to help you. Worse still, you are insulting my friends. With each sentence that comes out of your mouth, I am less and less wont to maintain a pleasant atmosphere. If you won't have the kindness of tact in your speech, why should I be kind to you with it?
There is nothing I can do to help you. None of us can. We can't offer you tips for a major that you'd like, because you already hate everything. We can't offer you a different way of life, because you hate everything, are content hating everything because it's what you've always done and it's what is easiest to do, and hate that you hate everything. You hate hate hate hate hate.
And I can't handle that. I'm sick of it.