Rough I know. The more and more they teach me, the more and more I realize how much I know. Call me an arrogant teenager if you wish.

They fill my head with meaningless bullshit about how to write. I know how to write. I know how to express myself and it is not through following their structures and words. They tell me not to use euphemisms. Their whole structure is a euphemism, it is hypocritical, it is demented, and it is pitiful. I know how to write. And it involves passion. I insert myself into this argument because I care about the outcome. There is everything right with that. I know how to write. And it involves freedom of expression. It involves putting ‘and’ in front of sentences. It involves writing the way arguments appear in my mind and not forcing them to take forms that are unnatural. Their structure is a virus, a euphemism. It is copied over and over again without thought. Hundreds of essays that are all the same. Hundreds of students that never learned how to think because they were too busy copying the goddamned structure. Thinking involves creativity. Thinking is creativity. I bet that most people never have so much as one original thought in their lives and it is because of the damned structure because it is a damned euphemism. It is mindlessly repeating the same thing that when you stop to think about it, just isn’t one bit true. Not one bit. It is utter ridiculousness. I can paint but don’t give me this color by numbers bullshit. Give me a piece of paper and I’ll show you something new as if my life depended on it. Because when it comes down to it, that’s pretty much my existence and as free thinking human being. You say that some students need the color by numbers to do anything at all, I say you’re enabling their stupidity. I know how to write.

I know how to write because I once wrote a letter. It wasn’t beautiful because it had elegant language or because it was long or because it was particularly descriptive. It was beautiful because it was true. It was the Truth as I saw it, wholly and completely, and I had managed to relay it with a little note at the bottom that expressed my love. My letter did not contain euphemisms. My letter had no predominant structure to it. I was copying nothing. I was fulfilling the purpose of language: to express ideas. I believe that meaning should dictate structure and word choice and that word choice and structure should not take precedence over meaning. That is what this damned AP Comp is forcing me to do and I hate it. The only joy that comes from writing in it is the subtle smile I get when I manage to subvert the rules. I know that culture evolves, that perceptions evolve, that beauty evolves, that we evolve, but goddamnit I want to be involved in my mind and how I structure what I think. Reality is fluid. It is cold. It is harsh. But it is what is. And I must say so if I can. Without knowing reality there is no Truth and without truth there is no meaning. Fail me if you wish, but I have succeeded. I know how to write.