Rhys Rodgers.

I hate university. I hate hate hate it.

I hate it for TWO reasons.

1) I am studying creative writing. But can anyone ever STUDY creative writing? can creative writing be placed into a linear scale from best to worst? Creative writing is so subjective and i disagree with alot of things being taught. What is the value of these peoples opinions? I dont have much respect for my lecturers. They toe the line and dance around in the neat little square of the ‘politically correct, linear, 3rd person young adult novel’. They SAY they want me to be creative. But then they dump all these criteria on me!

I feel like i am sitting in a room full of toys, but there is a red circle around me with only a few toys inside of it. And they tell me that if i want good marks I must stay inside the circle. I think it is sick to place something as beautiful as creative writing into a tertiary institution. Univeristys are places where young free brumbys go to have their spirits broken and their silly-beautiful-dreams put through a paper shreader and then stored in a filing cabnet and thrown out at the end of the financial year with a note for the garbage man saying: “burn me please”. And the garbage man knows what he is doing. He remembers going to univeristy himself, but he dose not remember it often because those memorys are metalic and spikey and nested with alcoholic spiders named Rodney and Lulu, and together they breed deformity with parenting books and spaghetti from cans. And the garbage man. He burns all the silly-beautiful-dreams. He sits in a (plastic) chair, drinks a (home-brand) beer and he dosent wonder why he is a garbage man with a univeristy education. Because if people started wondering those sorts of things. Then maybe the giants would stumble. And the mountains would crumble. And we would hear the digerydoos agien. We would peel off our clothing and walk down streets wearing smiles and milk; and money would become little round circles used as arts supply. And lets face it. Reality is red with purple spots, and thats the way its always been since we landed on the moon and stuck a flag there, as if we hadden’t already littered it enough with all our human eyes, leaving pitted stare marks on its surface.

Now that is worth a fail. But what do they know?

(yes i know i said TWO reasons, but i never said i would explain them both here)