Education and me

I can easily sum up what I learned in 12 years of school. It’s called Jack and shit, and Jack’s left town. I endure years of being stuffed in lockers; a used tampon or two chucked at me, got the crapped kicked out of me, and affectionately was called the retard. All those years of emotional trauma and physical abuse have left me scarred for life. I am a high school graduate, yet I can’t even add to save my life. Hell, I can’t even tie my friggin’ shoes, for god’s sake. So, believe you me, when someone lectures me about the importance of higher education I stare at them like they’re from another planet. A planet, where perhaps, school was fun and useful? So here I am, 19 years old, having spent five days a week, 12 years of my life, sitting at a desk picking my nose. It’s my life! Not the board of education’s, for cripes sake! And you want to know what I have to show for my time? A fancy, shitty piece of paper which either is located at my parent’s house or in a black hole somewhere in space.