Grateful for friends and nonjudgmental ER staff. Feeling pretty close to my limit, but we’ll see what tomorrow holds. I can take it.
I am not a willow
I’m having a flash fiction piece published in an anthology this August. I’m excited.
What are you fucking thinking? What are you fucking doing? Who the fuck do you think you are?
I don’t know. I don’t know. Just lost.
Figure your shit out. There’s only one solution. Climb back on the crazy train. And hang on. You’re not going anywhere. You don’t know how.
I could figure it out. I could stick up for me.
Please. You can’t. You don’t understand enough to argue. I’ll tell you what to do. You’ll do it. Because we all want the same thing. And that’s for me, I mean us, to be happy.
You don’t really care. You just want to secure me. Under your thumb. Shapeless. Faceless. Lost.
You’re ridiculous. I told you you didn’t get it. You’ve just validated my point.
Why do they do that? Cut everything down?
They want to be in charge. Kill it all so they can decide what is allowed to grow.
But nothing’s growing.
No. Nothing is.
We have unfinished business, you and I.
An off topic bitch fest brought to you by me.
Being told to give a survey to my students to find out how to make my class more fun is really just absolutely fucking ridiculous. Never mind that 12 year-old kids have no idea what they should do. They only know what they want. They want to be on their phones and they want to play mindless video games and get constant positive feedback for no effort.
Sure, give them a survey. Make it more fun. The only focus for teacher’s for the several years has been us to make everything more fun. Easier. Bullet points and no reading. And certainly no homework. They’re too busy for homework. Too busy.
Did you study? No, but I played Call of Duty for 10 hours.
You play Call of Duty? Your parents let you play Call of Duty?
Obviously, the problem lies with me. I’m not fun enough.
Now, I’m bored of complaining. It’s always the same. Poor performance and blame the teacher. Nothing to do with parenting. Nothing to do with screens. Nothing to do with kids being exposed to violence earlier and earlier in their lives. Nothing to do with any of that. Just me and my boring hands-on, lab filled, inquiry-based, interactive class.