Educational Negligence

There have been so many meetings with teachers and counselors and principals that I can’t help but feel angry. I sit clenching my fists at the dinner table listening to my parents and siblings recall the moments they beleaguer the instructors they don’t tolerate. We have become that family. It seems we’ve consecrated ourselves from everyone else in this house of educational worship and I want nothing less than to be associated with this behaviour. Is it dastardly to want to egress one’s self from one’s own skin and bones, to escape their own body? I don’t feel shame, only anger. It drains the blood from my face and makes my thundering heartbeat reverberate throughout the entirety of my being. I wish to become gratis of this impending feeling of annoyance but grinding teeth can’t help but clench in a feeble attempt at self-control. What I should be biting is my tongue, for I fear my words may become itinerant from my obstinate mouth to the eager ears of meddlers without honesty. The cycle of mistrust is destined to continue in the immaterial spectacle that is high school and escape is the only thing that drives me in this moment.