The Perks of Being a Cuban.

This post maybe all over the place. You don't have to read, but if I don't get all f this outon "paper" my brain will explode faster than if someone were to tell a jock that they have π JUGs (credit: Spivak [not sure how to spell it, don't really care to know either].)

I don't like dealing with people whose main agenda is to start drama and bicker and cause every single person who crosses their path to havea CRAPPY day. I don't really want to mention who, as this person does in fact have a way with finding outt crap and I really do not feel like getting bitten in the ass today. Honestly tell me, do I seem like the type of person who hangs up on someone when the conversation isn't going my way? Nope. If you knew me at all you'd know that I like to talk things out until the conversation does in fact finish in my favor. But you don't know me, at all, because you haven't even tried to ge to know me. As Robert, you've known me for 16 years, but what about Robert as a person, Rob. The sarcastic kid who does almost anything for a laugh around his good friends, the Rob who can win any argument no matter how smart the person with his sarcastic comebacks alone. Did you know I was sarcastic? I didn't think you did. You've never been there, and you always think you've beeen, but you haven't. Graduation wasn't a big deal for me, you were there, OK? Fine. What about my Emmaus homecoming. Even though I didn't have one, I knew you were "too busy"(again) to even go. My ring ceremony, another xcuse. Granted I didn't really want the ring, but mygodmother my uncle and my parents were there. Why weren't you? Why have we never had a conversation, as equals? Why have you always imagined yourself on a pedestal, above me, scolding me, like a parent to its child and not like what we actually are. I wish you knew your brother better than he knows himself. But if you refuse to then it doesn't really matter does it?

They made Miss Eaton cry today, twice in one eternally long 28 minute class. IT seemed like an hour, I couldn't believe what I was watching. She was so vulnerable, so broken. Like all of her dreams of being the perfect teacher were crushed by a few assholes who simply do not care about anyone or anything. They think they're "the shit" and will do anything to prove that they are. Watching her cry they probably weren't sorry, or remourseful, they probably felt accomplishment. Lord knows they've never felt that in her class before, since they've accomplished nothing else. It was horryfying to see her reach that point and see her run out into the hallway. Ho wcould anyone do that to a teacher? On teachers appreciation week? And to sucha dedicated teacher too. How many teachers make themselves available for assistance every night until 11:30 or later? How many teachers are willing to sit with you foras long as it takes to make sure you understand exactly how to write a good paper? Not many. And to watch all of her hard work go down the drain in 28 minutes was horibble. Why do I still want to be a teacher?