Career day at my school is such a f*****g joke. They all want us to be lawyers, or doctors, or fascistic scum. I don't see why I shouldn't, like, hold onto my dreams. It's not like I'm not amazingly talented.
- I always get B's in English. That's like, really promising, considering Miss Llewellen is such a bitch. AND she said my poetry was completely maudlin and depressing, which is definitely the emotional range I was going for. She did kind of add that it's effete crap, but that is pure jealousy.
- I really suck at Maths and Science - just like all the best artists. If I WAS good at those subjects, I would naturally resign myself to that fate, but I probably wouldn't have the emotional depth and range that I currently have.
- All my friends on myspace think I'm like, really, really talented. I get so many compliments about how well I express the futility of life and how in touch I am with my emotions. I mean, SOME people don't think so, but they are just jealous.
- I sent some stuff to a magazine, and they said that if I paid a couple of hundred bucks they would publish my stuff. That has got to be promising, right? They want to publish me! Of course, my fascist parents wouldn't shell out, even to kickstart my career. Fascists.
- I'm sure that people can make money with poetry, if they're like, really really good. And if Wordsworth had to get a job at Woolworths to support himself like my fascist parents want me to, then he would like, NEVER have produced anything because he would have been too tired from stacking trolleys. So, like, if my parents force me to do that, then they will effectively be denying the world my talent. They SERIOUSLY don't understand.
- My poems are SO much better than the shit we learn at school. I know that for a fact, seriously. I've even been offered publication in the school newsletter, but it's just propaganda so I refused.
- I could turn my poetry into song lyrics, and everybody knows that musical talent like mine pays off. I'm sure I would have no problem getting signed to a label. If my fascist parents would buy me an electric guitar, which of course, they won't.
- I could also do t.v. appearances, so if my poetry itself wasn't making money but I was really well known (which is totally possible) I could be paid to do t.v.. The only way my being a poet could fail as a career is if my parents sabotage me, seriously...
- I could perform some act of self mutilation, like Van Gogh, but obviously cooler, to prove my artistic nature. I've kind of been planning it for a while, to emphasise that artistic side, but I'm just having difficulty figuring out what is the coolest way to do it without spoiling my looks. Because I might need them for t.v..
- you bourgeois fascists
hiding
behind your
endagered walnut dining table
i
spit on your constant
pulling me down
i'll hack off my wrist
a sybolic gesture
but i will still have
a poetic voice
fuck you
If that isn't enough to convince you, then nothing will.
