31) A Hearty Breakfast

Above: 3 strips of bacon, 'eggy in the basket', scrambled eggs, and a cup of moderately sweet coffee.

Accompanying music:


A meal always tastes better when you're the one that cooked it. This is best achieved with breakfast, arguably the most important meal of the day. But if cooking eggs while avoiding waking my parents has taught me anything, its that spring break presents luxuries I seldom enjoy.

On the bright side, I've discovered a solution to my writer's block: 1 hour of meditation after a minimum 110 hours after any schooling. Not a feasible solution to help my writing abilities, but I've been able to produce a 45 minute podcast in the process.

However, my free time is not truly 'free'. I've been studying in my SAT subject books for a test that's slated on my 17th birthday.

And isn't that the greatest insult? To mar the celebration of my birth with the grasp of schooling and its merciless institutions. Forcing me to study when I'm on break.

But what really scares me is that I've already begun to miss the horrible sounds of the school bells, the apathetic tone of a teacher's voice, or the mob of students all talking at once.

If my hate for schooling isn't apparent, I'll emphasize it here: I HATE SCHOOL. And no, don't you go back a few posts on this blog to refresh your memory. I wouldn't dare waste your time with my rants. It's only a question of why you're reading this.

Which all means that the only drawn conclusion is my worst fear: I've become addicted to school. The system has grabbed me with its totalitarian grasp, seeping into my mind, driving my veins of hate and contempt. I've become addicted to pain.

Twice I've woke this school year, struggling to breathe, my heart beating at an inhuman rate, as if I've been running for miles nonstop. Numerous times I've had dreams of dismembering my family, echoed by screams of pain and laughs of sadism in an orchestra of delicious blood and flesh. I've felt enough pain to drive me to suicide; feelings that some shall never know in their lifetime.

I need not convince you of the products of compulsory schooling. Let me be the example of the mental damage it has caused in some.

I can live with being a masochist. In fact, its the only remaining option I have. I'm not bluffing when I say that school has taught me not to fear death.

And here I thought I could be happy and satisfied for cooking my own breakfast. Before this week ends, I'll consider doing it once again. Eggs are delicious.

Alas, I've become pessimistic once again. So I wonder why so very few adults understand what this education system has cost. When my parents can give me my sanity back, then they can start complaining that I'm not a obedient adolescent. When teachers can help me enjoy life once again, then they can judge my intelligence.

So listen to your common masochistic, delusional, and suicidal student. He knows more about school than you think.

How's this for solving writer's block?