Open letter to Tim from Stan, Tau peer class, December 09.
May of 09
It was Animus
Then Teneo, we’re digging deeper now.
F**k your disclosure circles and your “therapeutic” pressure,
F**k me being forced out from the closet as gay to my parents, like blackmail
In my first family group
F**k adults telling kids that their suicide attempts “weren’t real”
F**k the culture of discreetly sexualizing people’s children
F**k TB and AC
F**k the pain I see on the faces of people I care about
In unearthed pictures.
F**k you laying me to rest at my own “funeral”
And having me write my own obituary.
U really think that helps suicidal kids? Eat a d**k.
F**k your standards, I’m setting my own
Don’t tell me to sit still or stop smoking pot
I got diagnosed with PTSD 2 years after I graduated
Due to your school and childhood trauma.
Eat me.
You really dropped the ball with me.
Like Nicky Santoro said in “Casino”
“I think I want my money back.”
F**k your criminal ignorance, literal and metaphorical.
F**k you denying my depression, how serious
my teenage life was,
I rolled with a deep crew, you stole that.
And you telling me to “stop isolating”
And “stop being emo.”
I have a good moral compass on my shoulders
And I’m doing just fine without going back to visit,
Thank you very much.
You never had me contained.
I always had my eyes to the outside
Outside of your aquarium, your zoo, your institution.
F**k you
For making all of my romantic pursuits with graduates
Feel like Brokeback Mountain.
We spend a few hours or days herding cattle up on the hill
And then the day ends
And we have to go back to each our own lives after,
Pretending that we’re normal, we’re waterproof,
And that we’re not basket cases
Because your school forbade love and touch.
You forbade youth at your school.
Not cool.
F**k you for treating me like a pervert
A creep, a 5150 (crazy/involuntary hold psych ward)
A Unibomber.
Comparing me to the Columbine kids
In Integritas.
F**k you for alienating me, a human being.
F**k you for not acknowledging my homosexual inclinations kindly,
You didn’t have to call me a f****t
To make me feel like one and crawl in my skin
For your f**king team groups, your selfish examples
F**k you for “tarring and feathering” people
In the metaphorical town square.
Here’s a fun fact:
I’m a gay man.
And I got a ** in the lower commons bathroom
During a last light, sucka. 12/15/09 bitch
Denise’s birthday. How apt.
F**k you for making BT my advisor
In the last 3 months of my stay
He’s a d**k and didn’t want me to graduate on time
What, you thought he’d make me into a Mormon
While I’m counting the days to leave your prison?
Like that’ll work…
I’m too stubborn to let you brainwash me.
F**k you for my PTSD
F**k you for me getting sent away 2x
And always feeling homeless in spirit
Like all my friends are always about to leave tomorrow
For the foreseeable future.
F**k you for the dreams I lost.
F**k you for the nights I cried
F**k you for the days a piece of my soul died.
F**k you for leaving me in this apartment I live in now
With nothing but my guinea pigs
And my stuffed lion, Linus.
Yes, you got me addicted to drugs
To cloud my memory
And help me forget.
Mostly me but all you.
F**k your past failed schools.
You can’t keep them a secret anymore.
We all know, cause we’ve got the internet now.
CEDU anyone?
F**k you always making it “my problem.”
No, it’s ours, b***h
Unless you wanted me to walk on my 18th, sucker.
And f*ck those beads you got “me” from Greece, Tim.
I cut them the other day
They’re creepy and a bad omen
And they got tangled around my necklace,
My lion chain that keeps me strong instead of my graduation ring.
But I’m free now
Free as a bird
The chains have been lifted
No thanks to you s**theads.
I had to learn from the streets
Not from your banned books.
And ironed shirts and asking to spit.
Don’t try to pretend
That Carlbrook is not as convoluted
As Israel, the Vatican, or the CIA.
CBK is the Marines
They break you
And the rebuild u in THEIR image
Which generally conflicts with a student’s conscience
If they don’t decide to sell out completely.
F**k your D-Com.
F**k your board room in the dining hall,
Where all the REAL talk happened.
No disrespect to my real peeps
U know who u are
Family is blood, *nitches get stitches, real talk.
I had to f**k and s**k and shoot and smoke
Just to find what I have now.
Come the f**k at me, it’s group time
I’ve requested you.
Send me another copy of “love is letting go of fear.”
I left that on the Mod 5 Bookshelf for a reason.
So the pre-Integs would know that workshop tool
And have an ace up their sleeve.
I did it on purpose.
Send me to suspension.
Tell me more about “my actions having an effect on people.”
Money is the root of all evil.
Abuse of power is fascism.
The truth shall set you free.
End rant.
edit: vivid language
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