Having left the Blogisphere for a few days
I find that in such a small amount of time a large amount can change. Mind you, it only really takes a minute for anything to happen when you think about it. Still, I can’t help but think about all the postive and negative changes that will have happened by 2011. I will be living in Stoke, I’ll probably have met people I have never even heard of before, I’ll know where I came from. Everything I ever aspired to in my life will have happened. I’ll have even been to Download Festival. Finally, this time next year, I’ll have new hopes and aspirations. Daunting as it may seem I’m not sure if I’m looking forward to it or no, though as it is inevitable and unavoidable I’ll undoubtably have to face it head on. Perhaps this time next year I’ll even be able to skate at a basic, almost human level. I will have had a full body scan and minor surgery. A lot can happen in 365 days.
To me though, it already seems that a lot has happened in 4 months, the world has totally changed in my eyes, in a postive way of course.
This one’s a bit shit but I love the trick so it’s sound. Anthony Ackers, BS Krook at Hagley Skatepark.
Recolour of one of my photos from my skateboarding documentary. Anthony Ackers indy at Hagley Skate Park. Please ingore that ‘photo-bombing twat’.
Today I…
Used the words ‘nahh man my bottle is half full’ I was drinking a bottle of Stella with my mates -wife beater I know- And I guess, as the statement was unconsciously spoken, that means I’m finally happy with my life. I have my best friend, who is the nicest, funniest best friend in the world (Will Lauchlan), the best boyfriend I could ask for who’d do anything for me (and I’ve finally managed to make him forget he wanted to buy me a present- BOOM) and I’m satisfied with how my school work’s going. Sorted with my university stuff. I’m really happy finally.
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Lethargy
Today I promised myself I was going to commit to my studying having decided- and undecided- to try hard in year thirteen. I had chosen to try hard this year because I figured I’d have no distraction I was no longer in the two lessons where I literal did no work, I.T. and History and the people who distracted me- who, incidentally, were the most worthwhile people in sixth form- were now sadly gone. Now though, I can no longer blame them, so as I move my eyes slightly to the left and see my slightly annotated bet yet still undone English essay staring me in the face, I have no-one to blame but myself.
I’ve even gotten to a stage where, once my best friend, music distracts me. So, I ask myself, would I rather do my English essay and not get my ass handed to me for the first time during year thirteen or would I much prefer to listen to The Trees Are Dead and Dried Out Waiting For Something Wild by Sikth? It’s fairly obvious.
I’ve forced myself to finish my seventeen hundred word media essay to an acceptable standard for a rough draft but yet feel, though I can’t be arsed to put the effort in, that it isn’t good enough. And on top of all this? Today my entire form stared at me when I asked what the fuck a UCAS form was and why I needed it. Turns out I need to finish it very soon if I want to actually go to university, which I don’t, but that’s the line I’m sticking to- that I want to.
I would love to be able to look at my English teacher in the eye and say ‘enough of this’ like I pretty much did in Health and Social Care last year, but I know as well as everyone else I don’t have the guts.
And finally, I’ve gone and left a fucking tape in the media camera that’s just me laughing for a bit and saying ‘right, fuck this’ and I think my media teacher has watched it. Even though it truely, fucks my life in the true sense of the phrase, I kind help but find it hilarious. Oh and I’ve got that teacher I sodding well hate for General Studies. Year thirteen is going to be a laugh riot.
Ugly Betty
I was just watching this frankly, predictable and tiresome programme which I used to enjoy. I found myself thinking, ‘right, this doesn’t happen. Ever.’ Would somebody please tell the writers that this is the real world, where people don’t eat dinner until seven o’clock if they’re not out because if they are chances are ‘dinner’ consists of a double cheese burger and small fries. Or maybe that’s just my ‘real world’.
Today I went to Birmingham, it’s funny how the city centre looks like a matrix designed to keep us safe from the real world once you walk out in the direction of the irish pubs and the Custard Factory. You see men walking on their daily pilgrimage to the pubs, young men condeming themselves to the same lifestyle in adolesence and if you move further in the direction of Ideal, you’ll see wigglyboarders and skateboarders. But the one thing that’s consistent is the grey. You’re taken away from the colourful, shiny centre of the town where there is a basic level of cleanliness on the streets and into the world of spit-on-pavements, Transformers posters and plenty of grey. So which is the real world? The “glitz”- or as glitzy as Birmingham can be- or the grime?
Perhaps my real world is trying to keep up this facade of not being common, which I am I suppose. Today I was standing in the SuperDry Store in House of Fraser while my mum was looking at clothes. I was looking at this shirt I’ve looked at a few times, it costed £54. I stood for a while looking at the price tag and wondering if I could justify buying it, until a shop assistant, who’d been eyeing me curiously for a while, said “out of your price range?” with a wry tone in her voice. In order to not feel belittled by this arrogant bitch, who herself was wearing a bizzare combination of a blue SuperDry shirt and a grey dress, I seized the shirt and bought it. So, I ask you, who won that fight? Me, the idiot who was now £54 out of pocket but had an ‘alright’ shirt or the bitch who used physchology to made me put my £54 straight into her bank account and pay for her next God awful combination of SuperDry and Primarni?
I think it’s fairly obvious, she won and I live in a bloody fantasy world.
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