Where's my voice?

I just looked over a few of the other AP students' blogs.  I really only looked to see how many blogs the other students had, but I ended up staying for a couple minutes to read their blog entries.  I can't help but think that my writing is lacking something that theirs so perfectly demonstrates: voice.

 It doesn't bother me too much that there are much better writers in this class than myself - I've never been exceptionally proud of my writing ability - but am periodically reminded that my writing sounds very impersonal.  I didn't pass the 5th grade writing test because I lacked voice, and I am still struggling to incorporate it into my writing.  Even this blog entry is little more than an objective analysis of the situation I am observing.  I didn't intend for it to be so mechanical; I desperately want(ed) to show that I have a voice.  I've tried adding some exclamations or questions here or there, but that doesn't fully portray what I really feel. 

My voice is obliterated by the meticulous way I construct every sentence.  Every individual thought of my writing must be perfectly correct and demonstrate exactly what I think, if not what I feel.  I cringe at the thought that someone could take a red pen and circle all of my mistakes.  (Oops.  Maybe I'm not so humble.)  This exasperating habit prevents any of my feelings from emerging in my writing, and this is exacerbated by my intentional omission of profanity.  I swear more than I care to admit around those who do the same, but I am unable to do so here.  (Studies have actually shown that people who openly use profanity tend to be more trustworthy.  That's interesting.) 

So, where's my voice!?  My voice is exactly what I've tried so hard for so long to remove from my writing for the sake of eloquence and clarity.  Maybe Some stream-of-consciousness writing would help me find my voice.  Maybe I just have to get angry - I'm sure as hell angry now, and it's doing wonders.  Maybe My voice is hidden in passion - anger is the most easily available passion that I can think of.  Maybe I should stop being so damn worried about what other people might think of what I have to say and say what needs to be said.  I won't say what others need me to say, I'll say what I want to say.  If my painstaking sculpting of each word and phrase results in such hollow, forgettable passages, I should try to be more brazen and audacious.  Maybe If I just get over myself, my voice will ring through like a klaxon.