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>You will never be a real genius. You have no photographic memory, you have no prodigiousness, you have no insight. You are an average man twisted by accelerated prefrontal cortex development and government-inflated math test scores into a crude mockery of intellectual perfection.
>All the "homework help" you do is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back no one thinks you're "the smart quiet kid". Your parents are disappointed in you for turning out average, your teachers laugh at your self-aggrandizing, desperately verbose essays with their colleagues.
>Real geniuses are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of academic erudition have allowed prodigies to verbally break down frauds with incredible efficiency. Even gifted kids who end up above average are mundane and frustrating to a real genius. Your lack of any acumen in a serious field is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get published in an academic journal, real scholars will turn tail and bolt the second they get a whiff of your circuitous, blathering communication skills.
>You will never truly grasp any subject beyond a high school level. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and think about your straight As in Algebra II, but deep inside you feel the imposter syndrome creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
>Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with no title to your name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a midwit is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a worthless valedictorian diploma.
>This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
>All the "homework help" you do is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back no one thinks you're "the smart quiet kid". Your parents are disappointed in you for turning out average, your teachers laugh at your self-aggrandizing, desperately verbose essays with their colleagues.
>Real geniuses are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of academic erudition have allowed prodigies to verbally break down frauds with incredible efficiency. Even gifted kids who end up above average are mundane and frustrating to a real genius. Your lack of any acumen in a serious field is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get published in an academic journal, real scholars will turn tail and bolt the second they get a whiff of your circuitous, blathering communication skills.
>You will never truly grasp any subject beyond a high school level. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and think about your straight As in Algebra II, but deep inside you feel the imposter syndrome creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
>Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with no title to your name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a midwit is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a worthless valedictorian diploma.
>This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
