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This morning the news came on
I covered my ears. It behooves me to be apathetic.
I’m a liberal, and I hate big government.
I’m a conservative, but I’m also a pacifist.
I’m an anarchist, but I know human nature.
I’m a communist, but I also hate to work.
I’m confusing myself here.
Why do I break my own rules that I hammered into the slab
with the chisel of decisiveness?
I’m a straightedge, but I shared a beer with my mom last night
and did you know that I also watch television sometimes?
I guess my own morals are meteors coming back at me
with a vengeance
Tolstoy preached abstinence and screwed girls every chance he got
And he was a great man… wasn’t he?
I tried to read one of his books once
But I stopped. it was too hard, too long
and I didn’t want to look like a faux-intellectual
And I’m also not supposed to care what people think
I’m a feminist
really, I am
but I really like it when my girlfriend bakes me cookies
they’re delicious, just can’t help myself
I say to myself,
Man, I respect you. you don’t play the game
you’re following what you believe, what you feel, what you feel
you’re not going to follow this stupid contrived pattern of success
but did you know I took an sat prep class so I could get into a good college?
and did you know one time I cheated on a test? i didn’t mean to
the answers were just…
they were just right in my face!
I say I respect my teachers
because teaching high school is a real challenge
but did you know that stupid *** is making me write two papers tonight?
and she’s also giving me a test on grammar tomorrow
who needs grammar? I’ll make my own rules
Grammar stifles creativity
Wait, wait, no.
We need grammar
my ideas are jumping back and forth over the fence every day
I’m a teenager, I’m meant to be confused
but I also hate stereotypes
I don’t want to be average
I don’t want to live up to the same standards
that are broadcasted in lifetime movies
that make middle-aged women cry while they’re eating bon-bons on the couch
and once the credits start to roll, they switch to dr. phil
dr. phil who thinks god is love.
who doesn’t kill babies
no, he just kills the system
he sure does kill it
he makes money for giving advice
i’ve given better advice, and I wasn’t paid a dime
god, I give myself advice
I just don’t follow it
And i guess that’s why I’m putting a mask on
when I take my pen and project someone else
splattering ink between perfect college-ruled lines
And I forget,
and after i’ve been typing away and drinking cups of coffee until I have a stomach ache
i realize that the masquerade is over and I hang up my sequined mask
and i’m right back as who I am
the guy who says what he thinks and does what he feels
he definitely does what he feels
let me close my eyes and go to sleep.
will tomorrow be different?
i’ll put my hypocritical head to the pillow