They told me no. No. Don't use "I' don't use "we" or "us". Be infinitive and broad. Broad like the sidewalk, squared off, smooth. They said

You

don't matter. You're the speaker, the encyclopedia, the calculator of catch phrases who drums your teeth with a tongue of power, but you're faceless. Like hatred. Where is your pinpoint? You are general, and cleverly insightful, but to what end?

They told me that knowledge was power with which mountains formed glaciers. So don't be cheap. Semicolons are weak; rambling; lifeless. like

You

so don't use them. They said to build unity, but what is a union without a strike, and where is the strike without its rally? Where are my bursts of light through the sea; this sea of conjunctions, and white walled refusals? I want to hold hands with foolish desire. Bring me the kiss of runaway daydreams and let me espouse the child of pure leisure. They whispered of the blackness that accompanies failure. When they saw me they screamed

You

are the cause of misuse and disorder. They called me a fissure; a crack in their crystalline mortar. So I listened to them and it got to my head. When will my windshield collapse from the pressure of rule books, and algorithms, and the bitter of winter? My soul was a feather beaten by rain that comes in relentless torrents. Torrents of humid disgust riddled with the murky black residue of rust and rejection. I was small. I was grey.

They had crushed the daisy-head that was my delight and I no longer thought of the greens and pinks of bakery sugar. All appeared useless in the face of their poisonous murmurs. 

But when my heart turned to tar and my tears flew like vultures, I was suddenly startled. Startled by a vision of simplicity that none but my faltering eyes could see. It was rosy and warm like a blanket of summer inviting me nearer, it sang:

You

are not lined like a textbook; intended for reuse. You are not bordered by austere commandments and rigid descriptions. You are a galaxy of ingenuity created to ponder the twinkle of sleep on a lovers smile and the words of a forest at night. Embrace the broad train ride before you and seek to persue that which others cold-shoulder.

Stretch out your desire until it can breath the air of wonder and drink the liquor of intrigue. Never stop. 

And I listened. As it filled me with the hope of fulfillment I listened. I began to grow tall and the demons of structure began to crumble like soot in the morning. It told me that daylight brings bird song and triumph and that I was liberated from the bonds of fog and enforcement.

I was a meadow - endless and calm, yet reborn. I was no longer afraid of my power. My knowledge was my passion and I grew and I grinned and I sang!

They were gone, and who was I now? I was me. I was "we". I was "us". I was free.