Savages Are So Wise Wanting You To Cut Class With Passion

Tales of imagination activation through hedonism and truancy. Why did I waste all those years going to school? The real learning came to me when I was doodling my boyfriend's name on rooftops long before I even had one, writing poetry and littering the letters throughout the streets. Why did I go to class when I couldn't even sit still inside my head? I was everywhere else. Reading sand letters to poor schools of fish on the beach, kissing boys in movie theaters while pushing metaphors into their mouths, and of course, of course, pretending I was the color red. Being the color red. Go to school. Stay in school. Endure school. Escape school. School.

And then the question, why these words with these images? Who are these beings and what do they have to do with cutting class? Were they the dream-savages who helped me escape, long ago, while I endured another math class? What companions would they have been? Are those their club clothes? I wish I could remember those dreams. I think.