Frederick - It's my party, I can spill if i want to!

"Burn If I Want To"

When I found out I had to join the bridge program, my initial reaction was “Aw hewl Naw!” Who are they to tell ME I’m not ready? How dare they judge my math scores, telling me I’m not intelligent enough, or prepared as they put it, for college. I can remember year ago, my friends who decided to go to school right away bragging about how they had 1.6 gpa and still got into Columbia with no trouble at all. I must admit, my grades were terrible, but not nearly as bad as my friends who were accepted bridge free. Plus my essay was so ill!

How could they, no, how dare they not appreciate the swag scarified to such a trivial paper, clearly explaining why and how things are. I put forth no effort in high school, passing classes only by showing up for test, but I had enough time since to grow and get my mind right. Shouldn’t it be up to me to pass or fail on my own? Shouldn’t it be my decision to show up or not, considering I’m the one paying twenty thousand, considering I’m the one with something to lose? I hate situations where I’m forced into groups, forced to prove myself when I deem it unnecessary. How is forcing me to not be tardy under the threat of being dismissed while doing fifth grade math problems helping me? I’m a grown ass man, ya dig? I don’t need a teacher on my back when I’m two mins late because a hobo couldn’t decide on where or not to touch the third rail. In my opinion it’s a cheap trick installed to deliberately thin the heard and cut those not willing to conform.

Nothing about that says art school. I must admit, all this writing is helping me get back in the grove, but again, I think I would’ve been ok without it. In my book the three Dinka boys are forced into massive groups of other orphaned boys where they move from town to town in order to stay safe. The boys are natural born survivors and don’t feel like being with the huge group of reckless orphans is helping them in the least. They eventually end up severing ties and going off on their own. Although things are still rough, they at least call their own shot and make their own decisions. In the end that’s all that matters, even if I crash a burn, It should be my terms, no one else’s.