Well, they took another day from me

Another passing of the sun, another day guerrilla-reading Gatto disguised under the dust jacket of an assigned novel, you only get so many of these before the ground swallows you forever, and less than that where the light is actually warm, time is a precious elixir and no one should have the right to steal it away from anyone else, but how do we save each other?
They've told me I have an intellectual mind, I don't know if it's true and I don't much care, so I just shrug my shoulders, which they take for modesty, failing to understand that I genuinely don't give a shit, what good is pure intellect which births atom bombs in the same breath as polio vaccines? Only love really matters, the world cannot feed its children quadratic equations. The intellectual world is cold, insular, heartless, not visceral enough, and the non-intellectual world is too materialistic, I refuse to use my mind as a weapon any longer.
Anyone want to talk?