“I really only realised how hard my life was after my mother died of a heroin overdose and my father was released from prison having murdering a man in a bar fight.” I would love to be able to start an article with this kind of prelude, I truly would.
A writer savours turmoil like a pig savours truffles. They rummage through all the terrible happy moments of their life in search of that one irrefutable hardship from which pathos can be mined for the rest of their literally career.
Unfortunately for me, and arguably you, I have no such source of horrific providence. Instead my woes are collectively banal, mundane and unremarkable in such a way that makes their transmission to the written word a tragedy in its own ironic right.
However to divert from such stale sorrows would be entirely manufactured and insincere, and given we've just met that would leave a poor first impression; so here I go.
The most prevailing problem in my whole student existence is, honestly, spoilers, and I would bet a reasonable amount of my maintenance grant (yet to arrive mind you) that many students would agree.
I couldn't tell you the last time I enjoyed a piece of media and was not aware of the general narrative gist if not the entire story.
This isn't just restricted to pop culture either, oh no! I can scarcely walk into a lecture without getting some seminal work of fiction spoiled for me before my fingers ever even caress the first page.
These small localised incidents however I have come to terms with, an almost tacit acceptance of other people's lack of consideration (admittedly born often from enthusiasm).
What I cannot however endorse or overlook are the bizarre outbreaks of mass extremist “spoilerism”, most commonly finding a convenient platform on social media. And let’s be honest as a student nothing is more vapid, useless and self-centred than social media, so of course I spend most of my time on it!
The two most recent examples of this were Game of Throne'sinfamous 'Red Wedding' and of course the big one, Breaking Bad's finale. I'm a busy student, why should I suffer for falling behind by even a day.
Now I've read some scholars who purport that knowing the end makes the journey tenser, but for me it merely makes the trip an annoyance.
This isn't just a flippant rant by a spoilt student, it is that obviously, but it is also a brief public service announcement. So next time you think “maybe I'll just tell them how it ends”; stop, take a breath, and… well I'm not going to tell you how that sentence ends.