I’m not usually one to complain about the various ways people use language. When venturing into the realm of linguistics I am wholly relativist. I fully understand that language is in a constant state of flux, forming around the way we live our lives, largely dependent on the activities of our era and most importantly integral to who you are – unique.
Over the last couple of months a single acronym has had increased usage on the internet which I fear causes me an immense amount of restlessness. It plagues my Twitter Feed, Facebook Feed and I have even started to see the acronym being used on a number of blogs. There is no use for it, this is the first time and last time I shall write this devilish acronym…
F.M.L – Fuck My Life
I know it may seem pathetic – prim – proper – pompus that I find such an acronym unbearable. I even find myself stupefied to the dreariest content that this acronym is ruining my digital surfing habits. Essentially F.M.L just expresses discontentment in the activities of one’s life. I just find the acronym utterly distasteful. I’m not offended by it but when I see it expressed in somebody’s update I am just left feeling vaguely hollow.
For a few years people have taken the advantage of hiding behind the veil of the internet to express emotions without having to confide in an individual person. Not everybody has close friendships, some issues may almost seem too personal – so inevitably people end up expressing on Facebook. I must admit I cannot stand this activity but I do understand it. I guess this is where F.M.L originated from.
Since F.M.L penetrated into the brains of thousands of teenagers around the country I am left gazing at my monitor in bewilderment. The phrase just seems extreme, dangerous and ungrateful for the privileged part of the world we live in. Not that you can rationalise emotions. Intensities are far easier to access that wavering reasonability which dictates a calmer mood. Misplaced keys can fuel anger worthy of rivalling Satan’s parliamentary seat.
Besides, despite the worst atrocity imagined (gazing back a couple of my own experiences) I would never wish to commit F.M.L to myself. It takes a lot of heart break to pronounce that you would rather just not live anymore. Just end things the way they are. Therefore F.M.L just seems suicidal in my view – very few emotions can cause this and usually depression is the main cause. Yet again depression doesn’t carry the sense of anger that F.M.L seems to portray; depression is flaccid, useless, uncaring and un-channelled.
Look at me just blithering along this treacherous and slightly mundane topic of F.M.L. I suppose, if anything this blog is a cry for reason. Before typing F.M.L think “Is everything really that bad?”
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