The Privilege of the Privileged

I have become intimate friends with self-entitlement, having been in this uni for over a year. I had a taste of her back in college and we flirted for a bit. We went to gated villages in huge mansions with centralised airconditioning. We sampled what there was to sample - things, people, connections. Amusements which were supposed to mean "living life to the full". But I never felt "full" the morning after. I felt hollowed out and empty. Like a bad hang over. In the end I decided self-entitlement was not for me. Perhaps I was too much of a puritan, as I still am, to give in to her temptations. To do as I pleased and trust that someone else will be responsible for the consequences. To foot the bill. To clean up the mess. To pick me up. I respected my parents that much.

In this uni, she comes in different colours and shapes - literally from all over the world. But she maintains the same kind of essence. She is decadent in a way. This is why she is so seductive. She has hardly any self-restraint. She is, after all, entitled to everything life and people around her can offer. She never asks what she can do for you as she always expects to gain something from you. She has no pride in this matter. She will demand that you serve her. When she is prepared to reciprocate, it is only so because you have expressed resentment. There is no joy in her giving. There is only triumph in knowing she can ask for more. She is self-absorbed in her dramas. Her problems are yours, but yours never hers.

This is probably because self-entitlement is painfully weak. She cannot care for herself let alone another. Every little thing is bitch fit, a crisis. The little princess has no will of her own. No spine.