A letter to my statistics teacher

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓽𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻:

Fuck you, fuck you with every atom of my being.

You, who enjoys torturing psychologically from teenagers, who enjoys humiliating them and making them feel like shit, who likes to make us feel pressured and like we have no one else to go to.

I'm in your class again, the moment I saw you entering the classroom, felt as if god looked at me straight in the eyes and told me himself I was burning in hell for the rest of my days. Your voice is as irritating but terrifying as the screams of a dictator itself commanding its people to kill themselves. Your aspect is so miserable and disgusting, like a man who let himself rot past in time, not knowing that he's old but every time he looks in a mirror know it and does everything he can to do not remind himself of it.

You don't have love nor for nothing or anyone, not even yourself, you're lost in your own existence, you have to make others feel bad in order for you to feel superior, but you're not superior, you're just and oldinary old man with a little more power than us, but if I could, I would definitely kick your balls 3 times, and then we can see who's superior.

I wish you nothing but the worse, hope that your wife acknowledges the shit of a husband she married and leaves you, hope that the children you sadly created notice that they have a horrible father and leave you in a retirement home, and when you enter you face the same things you did to us: inferiority, powerless, and being unable to reach to anyone, 'cause you won't have anyone to go to. I hope that you end up in a sex scandal and your legacy ends up more damaged than what it already is.

You, teacher, are not the worst teacher, but the worst person I have ever met, so I hope that soon you get what you deserve, which is hell.

xoxo