A misanthropic in London

A misanthropic in London

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The struggles of living in London when you hate people

London is full of humans, but how do you survive the daily grind of travelling on the public transport and being around people when you hold hatred, distrust and contempt of the human species? These are some of the social situations every misanthropic has to encounter, and hates.

Picture the scene, the bus is half full but not packed to the brim. You are content and absorbed in your own little world sitting by yourself as the sound of music blares from your headphones. Then all of a sudden a human sits next to you. Remember, these are the standard two seater chairs most commonly found in most double decker buses, inconveniently positioned together so you have no choice but to feel the nudge of elbows and just the general discomfort of a spewing stranger sat right next to you. This kind of behaviour is unfathomable. Why is this persons presence next to me?

Feeling enraged you scout the entire bus and see there are in fact other seats vacant and some with no people sitting on them what so ever. So out of all the seats on this bus this human had to perch themselves next to you? Stench, body odour, talking loudly on the phone in a loud foreign language, sneezing and coughing and just breathing next to you is bad enough, but having their body parts literally on you is taking it too far. You avoid sitting next to someone in public unless it’s absolutely necessary and even then, you feel like you’re dying a little inside every moment you have to sit next to them. This is that moment right now. The inconvenience of people on public transport makes every misanthropic despise humankind that little bit more.

But than there is the dreaded morning travel to work. Trapped and wedged in a packed underground train like a sardine can. The overpowering stench of commuter’s coffee breath inches away from your nostrils, as the Tannoy announcement played on a torturous endless loop urges us repeatedly to ‘report unattended packages’ and ‘mind the gap’ lingers in your ears like finger nails scratching on a chalk board. It’s moments like this I wish I was dead, or at least everyone else around me was.

Have you ever had someone try to talk to you while you’re wearing earphones. Like seriously? do you not see these earphones plugged and etched into my ears? You honestly wonder what about you seems approachable. Does my stern and emotionless face look like it wishes to engage in social interaction? You hate having to waste your energy on humans when all you wish to do is escape into your own imaginary little world.

Than you feel a poke of a finger on your back or shoulder. You turn around to inspect what foul creature dared touch you only to be faced with a stern looking middle aged woman pointing to your earphones. Forced to inconveniently turn down your music to hear what this wrench wants thinking it could potentially be somewhat sufficient only to be told ‘’could you please turn down your music’’. I have earphones on for a reason, so the likes of these humans could not invade my personal space, now they are dictating what volume my music should be? I give a muffed look, plug back in my earphones and continue to listen to my music loudly. Society will not conform me, I just wish to be left alone.

After you have escaped the suffocating confines of the underground you venture to a nearby restaurant to indulge and unwind after the emotional distress of people. After being shown to your table you are then horrified and appalled that the waitress has placed you next to a table with children. What kind of sorcery is this? Children in public restaurants. They are repulsive little creatures who test your patience when all you are trying to do is enjoy your meal in peace. You are a paying customer and do not appreciate the constant screeching and crying of babies and spoilt brat children ruining your tranquillity. You completely advocate the idea of child-free restaurants and long for the day children are banned from these establishments. But until that day arrives you are instead forced to look on in annoyance and disgust as their doting and deluded parents smother them with compliments and affection, when all you wish you could do is smother them with a pillow instead.

After paying the bill you suddenly feel an unfamiliar vibration from your pocket. Shocked, you reach the depths of your pocket and are left flabbergasted that someone is actually phoning you. As a Misanthropic your immediate reaction is to sigh in utter disgust and contempt. Calling!?!!? What is this nonsense? WhatsApp me, you incompetent idiotic human.

After ignoring their call, you proceed to message them on WhatsApp ‘’Sorry, just missed your call, you OK?’ each word a bitter lie. You wait with baited breath as they respond. ‘Please, please, please cancel our plans’. You have had too much social anxiety for one day and wish to go home. Your favourite moment in life is when people cancel plans. There’s nothing quite like that sweet sigh of relief when you don’t have to hang out and mingle with humans. The unnecessary annoyance of having to leave the confines of your bedroom to feel socially acceptable is not acceptable at all.

Relived you are no longer socially obliged and morally bound to interact with acquaintances you journey back to the sanctity that is your bedroom. Within these four walls you are free from the clutches of humankind. Humans are mentally exhausting and drain the very fabric of your soul. The life of a misanthropic in London, a very draining and challenging existence indeed.


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