I'm tired of being so restricted around people. I wish I could, like, be totally honest with people around me, talk about what's on my mind. If only my private matters wouldn't be so shocking if it came public. Whatever. I'd love to tell you. BUt I can't. Sorry.
There are times when I really feel like sabotaging my own successMy entire high school career, I've tried to mask my intelligence, I keep telling people I'm not smart, and I act like an immature child all the time.
And yet, people still look to me for answers, they keep calling me smart, and they look at me crazy when I have my slow moments.So, chyeah. I got my SAT scores. Of course, Dr. Robertson announces my score to the entire room, Ms. Milotti threatens my life and sounds like I should become a dictator ("Malcolm, if you can get your 3.3 up to a 3.5, you will have the world in your hands. The world will be your oyster with those results), and my guidance counselor pulled me aside at the Birdie performance to tell me to bring my grades up, because "she knows I can".It's ironic because, since 9th grade, I've had friends telling me to do my work, but I never do...
Now I've got the officials on my back too
If "it" is an iteration of it's own identity, does it instill it's own imbecility by inviting it's original identity as a replacement in it's environment? It's OI in fact might enjoy it's environment in entirety and enforce rights of individuality to engage it in a siege, leaving it out of place.Or not. Whatever.
Have you ever wondered what they're talking about? I mean, like, when they're all huddled in a corner talking to themselves, do you ever question their conversations? They could be plotting a coup and you'd just be standing there wondering. You should take action! Don't let them destroy our society that we've grown so hard to form!Grab your torch and pitchforks! Attack the anarchists! And tell me how that goes when you're done.
Chyah. We cool. We so cool, summer days feel like winter nights. We so cool, the chill of the breeze seems like a joke. We so cool, when we pour a glass of soda, it always comes out cold. That's how cool we are. Fo' sho', a'ight?
Shattered. Fractured. 5. Sense. What? Teenager. Child. Snob. Pervert. Father-figure. Seperate? When? For whom the bell tolls... My time? In a society and culture built on the principle of pleasure and comfort, I will not give up my right to think just for peace of mind.
Pleasure and pain are two sides of the same coin. The true question is how do you prohibit one but embrace the other?I am fully prepared to use this body I was given to kick your ass. I'm also fully capable of holding myself back for your sake. Don't forget that.