Jaded
So This is High School?
Have you ever noticed how in dreams after you die you just wake up? I mean if there is a higher power above us all they sure as hell don't want to spoil any means of us finding out if there is a heaven or a hell, or maybe the whole theory of there being a god and an after life is a figment of our imagination. The only reason I bring this question to the table is I had a bizarre dream last night that Mike and I owned a farm and he got pissed, because the goat attacked me or something. Then he said
“You’re a terrible best friend!" and stabbed me in the face. Then of course I woke up.
I'm a bit of a "freak of nature" when it comes to waking up in the morning. I don't need an alarm clock or anything. My body just automatically wakes up at six-thirty in the morning, even on weekends. On a rare occasion that I stay up late maybe I'll be lucky if I sleep in until eight.
I shuffled my feet into the kitchen where I was immediately welcomed to the aroma of coffee beans savoring into my nostrils. Maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but I am seriously a coffee addict. I've been enjoying it's delectableness since as long as I can remember. My dad would always pour me some in the morning in this little monkey cup. I turned Mike into a coffee addict as well.
Freshman year Mike, Billie, and I were performing in the talent show, and we procrastinated on writing our song and stayed up all night the day before the show and wrote it without an ounce of sleep. Mike didn't think he could make it through the day so I made him some coffee and now he can't function properly without it.
By the time I was done getting dressed I had a tie dye shirt on that I made, with my ripped up pants, striped scarf, red plaid hat, and my apparently "non-trendy" army jacket (according to Chelsea). Being trendy has never been my cup of tea. Neither, was putting on some music-genre-orientated-typical youth-cultured outfit. Sure people think I'm color-blind because I rarely match, and sometimes I can be mistaken that I live on welfare, because I shop at thrift stores and defy the corporate world. I mean sure I wear Ramones and The Who shirts, and maybe I do have a stud belt somewhere in my closet. Sometimes I'll throw you through a loop hole and appear semi-normal. Any way I don't dress "punk" or metal or goth or garage, or anything. It's too much of a cult without the haircuts type of thing for me.
As I was tying up my Chuck Taylor’s I heard Mom come in.
"Sam, I don't want to talk about what happened last night," she began firmly. "All I have to say to you is that if you don't get a job by the end of the month then your going to have to go live somewhere else. Your almost eighteen now and I just don't know what to do with you anymore,"
The funny part about this conversation is that I just turned seventeen two weeks ago. I agree I should get a new job, I hate having to ask things from people. The thing that discourages me about this most is yeah I guess I have grown up a bit troubled and I think my mom blames herself for that, but I don't smoke or do drugs, and I'm not getting knocked up, and I rarely ever drink. I mean I'm really not a terrible kid. I just have a knack for screwing most things up and letting my temper get the best of me, and maybe I am a tad cold-hearted.
I didn't even acknowledge any indication that I heard her, she said something else that I did not catch. On a normal day I would cut through peoples back yard to go to Billie's and walk with Mike and Billie Joe, but I kind of wanted my alone time. I love the few friends I have, but I like being alone a lot too. I find it to be a safe environment I can wallow in my own thoughts where no one can criticize me, slag me down, or anything you know? I went way out of my way to walk the tracks of Christie which were my stomping grounds on an off day, or any day for that matter.
Now before we reach the fabulous high school there are a few things you should know about the society of it all.
Berkeley High is basically a joke. We have our cliches like they show in the movies. First we have the ever almighty jocks and cheerleader. I really don't think I need to go into detail on that. Then we have those people that in their mind they are popular when really everyone is smirking behind their back putting those "Kick me in the balls" or "I like it in the ass" on their back. Then we have the drama "mods" who have this weird style of all black almost to wear you think they are gothic when the gothic click could kick their asses any day. Now we have the burnouts. Next to that is the Metal kids who I often mull over if their middle, ring, and thumb was chopped off in shop class, because they constantly have the "rock on" hand gesture attached to them. They wave to each other using that hand signal. Another thing I don't get. Their not too bad of people when theire stoned. Then we have the punk rockers. The social outcasts, oh and the "thugs".
I always saw school as attending outrageous pointless classes that are "prepare us for the future", or at least that's what it says on the school booklet. Then you have to dodge those social superiors that do there best to drain any once of dignity you have in you.
"Band practice later today?" Matt the drummer to my band. We just set up a time and she said he would talk to Johnny to see if he could make it. In case you didn't figure it out Johnny is the bass player. Matt didn't have much time to talk, because he had to get to class.
"Why didn't you come over this morning?" asked Billie Joe. I explained my whole "I just wanted to be alone" thing and then we discussed the finer aspects of The Kinks when class was to start.
Now Mrs. Johnson teaches American Government and to be quite honest she's a bit luny. Then again maybe I shouldn't say that since she is one of the few teachers that are particularly fond of me.
"You know I tend to notice that red heads march to their own drum beat you know? I admire you Sam, you go against all that is mainstream. Do you ever find that red heads are a bit different too?" she once asked me.
Then on occasions she was say
"Oh Sam tell your father I said hello!"
Now you see this would be an okay conversation to have if my dad hadn't been dead say oh almost three years now.
She also always wrote on the board when my band was playing or if I was just playing, and would spend half of the class the next day discussing the show. It kind of freaked me out, because I mean Billie's in my class and she never mentions anything about Sweet Children, or John's band Isocracy and they're a really big local band. Oh yeah you'll meet John later, he's the drummer to Sweet Children and Isocracy.
We ended up just watching a movie, due to the test yesterday that I'm pretty sure I aced.
Next was Geometry. Yes a high school senior in Geometry.
Now this class makes me wonder how Mr. Turner can even say what our daily "educational" objective is with a straight face. In fact it mystifies me how anyone at Berkeley High School can say the word "academic" with keeping a straight face. That class is a joke. Besides the fact that I find math to be overrated the students in there drive me crazy, with their constant outbreaks of
"Who you lookin' at homo?"
That's the class that I'm basically the social outcast, mostly because I probably couldn't name one Tupak song and they probably couldn't tell me who Joe Strummer is. In that class they run around, have water fights, "rap", and there all under the impression that I'm some sort of Einstein, because I'm quite so they automatically assume that I take my math book home and study it religiously. Most of the time though I'm just the teenager without a face. Turner just sits there being oblivious to everything.
Back to how I think math is overrated.
"Sam you used to do so well in this class what happened?" asked Mr. Turner on one fine day. Now why did I do well in the beginning of the year?"
Think about it in the beginning of the year all you have to do is have your parents sign measly little papers and boom you get a 100%. Plus everything is always a review of what you've learned since middle school. I've always seen myself as more of a philosopher then a mathematician anyway. That was the answer I responded too when he asked the question above.
This and Anatomy are usually the classes that I get my best writing done. I write songs and just random things such as:
"Tonight you shall have two turnips, one egg yolk and a piece of rye to finish you...I mean it off."
“You’re a terrible best friend!" and stabbed me in the face. Then of course I woke up.
I'm a bit of a "freak of nature" when it comes to waking up in the morning. I don't need an alarm clock or anything. My body just automatically wakes up at six-thirty in the morning, even on weekends. On a rare occasion that I stay up late maybe I'll be lucky if I sleep in until eight.
I shuffled my feet into the kitchen where I was immediately welcomed to the aroma of coffee beans savoring into my nostrils. Maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but I am seriously a coffee addict. I've been enjoying it's delectableness since as long as I can remember. My dad would always pour me some in the morning in this little monkey cup. I turned Mike into a coffee addict as well.
Freshman year Mike, Billie, and I were performing in the talent show, and we procrastinated on writing our song and stayed up all night the day before the show and wrote it without an ounce of sleep. Mike didn't think he could make it through the day so I made him some coffee and now he can't function properly without it.
By the time I was done getting dressed I had a tie dye shirt on that I made, with my ripped up pants, striped scarf, red plaid hat, and my apparently "non-trendy" army jacket (according to Chelsea). Being trendy has never been my cup of tea. Neither, was putting on some music-genre-orientated-typical youth-cultured outfit. Sure people think I'm color-blind because I rarely match, and sometimes I can be mistaken that I live on welfare, because I shop at thrift stores and defy the corporate world. I mean sure I wear Ramones and The Who shirts, and maybe I do have a stud belt somewhere in my closet. Sometimes I'll throw you through a loop hole and appear semi-normal. Any way I don't dress "punk" or metal or goth or garage, or anything. It's too much of a cult without the haircuts type of thing for me.
As I was tying up my Chuck Taylor’s I heard Mom come in.
"Sam, I don't want to talk about what happened last night," she began firmly. "All I have to say to you is that if you don't get a job by the end of the month then your going to have to go live somewhere else. Your almost eighteen now and I just don't know what to do with you anymore,"
The funny part about this conversation is that I just turned seventeen two weeks ago. I agree I should get a new job, I hate having to ask things from people. The thing that discourages me about this most is yeah I guess I have grown up a bit troubled and I think my mom blames herself for that, but I don't smoke or do drugs, and I'm not getting knocked up, and I rarely ever drink. I mean I'm really not a terrible kid. I just have a knack for screwing most things up and letting my temper get the best of me, and maybe I am a tad cold-hearted.
I didn't even acknowledge any indication that I heard her, she said something else that I did not catch. On a normal day I would cut through peoples back yard to go to Billie's and walk with Mike and Billie Joe, but I kind of wanted my alone time. I love the few friends I have, but I like being alone a lot too. I find it to be a safe environment I can wallow in my own thoughts where no one can criticize me, slag me down, or anything you know? I went way out of my way to walk the tracks of Christie which were my stomping grounds on an off day, or any day for that matter.
Now before we reach the fabulous high school there are a few things you should know about the society of it all.
Berkeley High is basically a joke. We have our cliches like they show in the movies. First we have the ever almighty jocks and cheerleader. I really don't think I need to go into detail on that. Then we have those people that in their mind they are popular when really everyone is smirking behind their back putting those "Kick me in the balls" or "I like it in the ass" on their back. Then we have the drama "mods" who have this weird style of all black almost to wear you think they are gothic when the gothic click could kick their asses any day. Now we have the burnouts. Next to that is the Metal kids who I often mull over if their middle, ring, and thumb was chopped off in shop class, because they constantly have the "rock on" hand gesture attached to them. They wave to each other using that hand signal. Another thing I don't get. Their not too bad of people when theire stoned. Then we have the punk rockers. The social outcasts, oh and the "thugs".
I always saw school as attending outrageous pointless classes that are "prepare us for the future", or at least that's what it says on the school booklet. Then you have to dodge those social superiors that do there best to drain any once of dignity you have in you.
"Band practice later today?" Matt the drummer to my band. We just set up a time and she said he would talk to Johnny to see if he could make it. In case you didn't figure it out Johnny is the bass player. Matt didn't have much time to talk, because he had to get to class.
"Why didn't you come over this morning?" asked Billie Joe. I explained my whole "I just wanted to be alone" thing and then we discussed the finer aspects of The Kinks when class was to start.
Now Mrs. Johnson teaches American Government and to be quite honest she's a bit luny. Then again maybe I shouldn't say that since she is one of the few teachers that are particularly fond of me.
"You know I tend to notice that red heads march to their own drum beat you know? I admire you Sam, you go against all that is mainstream. Do you ever find that red heads are a bit different too?" she once asked me.
Then on occasions she was say
"Oh Sam tell your father I said hello!"
Now you see this would be an okay conversation to have if my dad hadn't been dead say oh almost three years now.
She also always wrote on the board when my band was playing or if I was just playing, and would spend half of the class the next day discussing the show. It kind of freaked me out, because I mean Billie's in my class and she never mentions anything about Sweet Children, or John's band Isocracy and they're a really big local band. Oh yeah you'll meet John later, he's the drummer to Sweet Children and Isocracy.
We ended up just watching a movie, due to the test yesterday that I'm pretty sure I aced.
Next was Geometry. Yes a high school senior in Geometry.
Now this class makes me wonder how Mr. Turner can even say what our daily "educational" objective is with a straight face. In fact it mystifies me how anyone at Berkeley High School can say the word "academic" with keeping a straight face. That class is a joke. Besides the fact that I find math to be overrated the students in there drive me crazy, with their constant outbreaks of
"Who you lookin' at homo?"
That's the class that I'm basically the social outcast, mostly because I probably couldn't name one Tupak song and they probably couldn't tell me who Joe Strummer is. In that class they run around, have water fights, "rap", and there all under the impression that I'm some sort of Einstein, because I'm quite so they automatically assume that I take my math book home and study it religiously. Most of the time though I'm just the teenager without a face. Turner just sits there being oblivious to everything.
Back to how I think math is overrated.
"Sam you used to do so well in this class what happened?" asked Mr. Turner on one fine day. Now why did I do well in the beginning of the year?"
Think about it in the beginning of the year all you have to do is have your parents sign measly little papers and boom you get a 100%. Plus everything is always a review of what you've learned since middle school. I've always seen myself as more of a philosopher then a mathematician anyway. That was the answer I responded too when he asked the question above.
This and Anatomy are usually the classes that I get my best writing done. I write songs and just random things such as:
"Tonight you shall have two turnips, one egg yolk and a piece of rye to finish you...I mean it off."