Argh

When you are a child, nobody wants to listen to you.

I may sound like I am complaining, but in reality I desire to structure an accurate and effective argument in my defense in order to obtain some of my demands.

Disclaimer, for the doubters of a child’s vocabulary: None of these sentences will have involved a dictionary or a thesaurus. I am competent of my own right. And I honestly have no idea how that sentence or phrase is supposed to be structured, so if you laugh, don’t tell anyone.

No one wants to listen to you because you are juvenile, immature, and shallow. You are over-selective and adamantly refuse to consider new approaches to situations.

These are ineffective arguments, because sometimes there are legitimate reasons for approaching things a certain way.

Fine, I will stop prancing about and state my demands: go food shopping. (And maybe be considerate.)

I am sure most adults over the age of twenty-eight would be furious to only have . . . well, I keep saying to myself “two”, but really there is one thing at most–with which you can have a whole meal, and that’s for dinner, and it’s in a frozen package.

Most adults over this age would not be satisfied with only possessing snack foods in their house–especially when they’re not poor. If they had a car, they could be stupid and go off to eat out every day for every meal, or they could just go to the supermarket and pick up the food they need.

But children are not autonomous. We are minors, and incapable of making trips to the store. We have little control over our situations besides making suggestions–ones that are frequently ignored by our elders.

While our parents can eat at work and go to the store to buy when they want; we must be contained within our house, incapable of exiting. I do not want to remain here. I cannot go out. I must stay home and wait, horribly dependent. I waste, I decay, I make repetitive habits to drift away in an attempt to cope. I am listless. I am helpless.

I cannot conceive of a world containing “choice”, or “variety”–because I have little access to it.

Some peanut butter, a handful of nuts (ones I don’t particularly like either), and a bit of lettuce do not un repas make. The fact is, I am deteriorating. I possess some electronics, a lack of motivation due to understimulation, some books I don’t feel like reading because, again, I am losing my free will, an elliptical, snack foods, and an excessive quantity of time.

If an individual is trapped with limited resources, they can do very little. They lose their capability to decide, to think, to tolerate. This is not a healthy environment. It is both physically and emotionally detrimental to a person–regardless of stage in development.

What do I propose? What children have always requested: to be listened to, to be supported despite their (our) flaws and forgetfulness, to be connected, cared for, appreciated.

And maybe I am overreacting. Due to an ingrained anxiety, I do have this tendency. But when I am shut out, when I am not listened to, I distort the parameters of the relevance and tension the situation has. It becomes a war in my mind; and being restrained, being ignored, only expands upon a vicious cycle. I want to be understood. I want to be listened to.

I hate being trapped. I am not in the most dire of situations, but it is a part of human nature–and civil rights–to improve upon the state of the surrounding conditions. Because of this, I have made my demands and stated a somewhat disorganized preliminary argument. I cannot, however, state it through my mouth for fear of criticism and mild persecution. Very mild. Baked potatoes.

See, even thinking about rebelling has recalled some creativity in my cache of food-words!

Post-argument notes:

This was not inspired by Ella Minnow Pea and I am totally serious. I prefer to write my debates than debate them, because people tend to be stubborn and refuse to hear me out or consider my arguments. I expect this to be forgotten eventually. It always is this way with children’s arguments.

And yes, fifteen years old does count as being a child. Because calling myself a teenager would definitely prevent anyone from considering my (relatively) coherent argument.

Thank you.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s