No One’s Going to Tell You What to Do
Why should I be any exception.
Why should anybody get to talk back to you.
For that matter, why should anybody feel entitled to speak up.
What’s the matter, don’t you have a sense of humor?
Don’t I? Don’t they? Forgive me if this is whiny.
What would make me think I’m any different.
Why wouldn’t you want to make your point at any cost.
How about that, you’ve alienated everybody.
I didn’t think it could be done but you’ve been underestimated before.
No one’s going to tell you who’s okay to attack.
No one’s going to tell you when you’ve gone too far.
You know much better than everyone else.
It’s funny that you attack people for exactly what you do.
It’s brilliant that you presume guilt instead of innocence.
It’s totally edgy that you impute your motives to everyone else.
You’ve had some time to notice what everyone’s up to—
And the necessary distance.
There really isn’t anyone who measures up to your standards.
Everybody’s lame or climbing or . . . what, guilty of original sin?
You’re the one who makes the whole class edge forward
In anticipation of the line that pushes the teacher over the edge.
You’re the one who calls the shots.
You totally have the insights. There’s no telling how far you’ll go.
You’re totally aware of your flaws and limitations
And when other people resort to name-calling, you’re on that shit.
You know how to fight clean and fight dirty and best of all
You know how to make it look like you’re not fighting at all.
You don’t make a spectacle of yourself—people love what you do.
No one’s going to tell you what to do. Not even you.