He made me cry.
Alone in a corner with only the caress of tears rolling down my cheeks, I sobbed.
This isn't about a broken heart; it's about broken trust.
When did we put so much stock in authority figures?
According to the ever-omniscient Wikipedia, a figure "may refer to: A shape, drawing, or representation".
An authority figure is, therefore, relegated to a figure of speech, a figment of the collective imagination.
By definition...
He is an irregular polygon, obtusely compassionate, acutely cruel, every angle of his form sketched with malice. Every geometric corner of this bitter hasbeen mistakenly thinking it's right, when clearly, it's wrong.
Talking to him is like talking in circles, or, like trying to jam square pegs into round holes, and quite frankly, I stopped that shit before I started preschool.
By definition...
He is badly drawn: a caricature of a middle-aged middle class human being who promises to educate and inspire learning. He is propaganda; a brainwasher of the worst sort, he drains the independent thoughts of eager young minds and fills them instead with his warped political views and says "I want to make you think", but what he means is "I want to make you think my thoughts", and if you think you came to college to broaden your horizons, you better think again because the colors you dream of aren't in any institution's coloring box. You dream of Technicolor in an institution demanding monochrome or sepia, or at most, primary colors. Consider coloring elsewhere because people like this badly-drawn boy scoff at your self-portrait in all its multidimensional, Technicolor beauty.
By definition...
He is a tyrannical representative- the king of all things that... no one ever really wanted to rule anyway. The king of bitter and bossy, he rules with an iron fist and a grimace which glimmers under the light of his bent wire coat hanger crown, bejeweled with the dignity of students who have gone before me.
... but I defy such things. No figure, whether shapely, drawn, or representational, will define who I am. And if I am defined by more than a figure, then I am free; not limited to geometric corners (for crying in, or otherwise)! Not drawn of charcoal in 2-D! Not crowned the ruler of miserable things! I defy authority, and I will cry no more.
Oh, beach angel. THIS is nothing i expected to consume on a Friday morning. Thank you for giving me something so lovely digest.
ReplyDeleteReally, this cooked itself. Adversity is quite the chef. ;) Love to you, lady Z.
Delete