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truth

Thoughts

Yes, I Want to Be a Teacher

teacher

Are you shook? Most people are when I tell them I want to be a teacher. In fact, they protest the very thought and insist that I pursue another career path.

“There’s no money in teaching.”

“You won’t last long.”

“Aim higher.”

Fuck you. Fuck each and every one of you who conjure such words with your mouth and force them upon me. I sincerely apologise for my inability to align myself with what you deem as worthy, but in saying that, I do not apologise at all. I want to be a teacher and if that unsettles you, then so be it. However, if you would like to open your mind for perhaps the first time in your life, then keep reading.

I’ve always been a little school obsessed. It may have verged on unhealthy, but I had to have the best grades and I wouldn’t let anything stop me. That was until something did. In year 10 English class, that’s sixth grade for you American folk, we were given the task to produce a piece of creative writing.

I had never been much of a creative writer. It required me to see things as more than they are and for some reason, I couldn’t. Nevertheless, I wrote a story, god only knows what about, and presented it to my teacher.

“It all seems very forced and I can’t find your voice. I think you know this isn’t as good as your usual work. Give it another go.”

It was the first time I had been truly critiqued and so naturally, I lost it. I read every tutorial I could find on creative writing, I wrote with a thesaurus wide open and I tried so desperately to channel my inner J.K. Rowling. A week later, I handed in another story.

“Again, it’s too forced. I don’t even know what half of these words mean and I’m pretty sure you don’t either. You’re overthinking this. You need to write about something you can feel, not about something you think you can feel.”

If I hadn’t lost it the first time, I had lost it now. In fact, I actually cried. What I thought was my saving grace was not, and now I had nothing to save me. I retreated into an empty classroom and sat against a wall, hoping it would taste my tears and chew me up. Although it never did, something else finally bit into my flesh and demanded acknowledgement.

After years of denial, my Dad’s suicide possessed me. Without my teacher, I don’t think it ever would’ve happened. I took a pen and paper from my bag and let his death write its truth. An hour passed, a single hour, and I was done. Still trembling, I typed it into an email and sent it away.

The next day after class, my teacher asked me to stay behind. She told me of how my words climbed into her head and screamed at her heart. A friend of hers and killed themselves a couple of weeks ago, and in my story she found her pain. She hugged me, thanked me and gave me purpose.

Ever since then, I have written with my soul on my sleeve.

What she did for me is what I want to do for others. I want to take their humanity, no matter what state it’s in, and nurture and accept it. I am not naive in this desire. I know that some students will torment me, hate me, ignore me and whatever else, but I also know that such behaviour is not without reason. There is a reason for their pain and although I cannot cure it, I can teach with words how to live alongside it.

Literature Thoughts

Sometimes I Want to Run Away

run away

You wake up during the witching hour; a time you were once scared of. You pull your suitcase from under the bed and open it to reveal the remnants of the life you have been living. You double check you have everything you need and when you realise you don’t, you smile. You quickly close the suitcase, not wanting to think twice, and pick it up with both hands. This is it. You are ready.

You quietly walk down the stairs and open the front door. You don’t look back because you have learnt by now that when you look back, you are not looking forward. You walk along the footpath towards the carriage, a yellow carriage, and the coachman takes hold of your life and places it in the boot. You take your seat, eyes still forward, and take a deep breath. You may not know where you are going but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you are going and if life isn’t about going, then what is it about?

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Literature Thoughts

The Strangest Thing Happened Today

the strangest thing

The strangest thing happened today I encountered myself. I have been walking the earth for twenty years but I have never been able to see whom is doing that walking. Today I saw. I attended a university class named ‘Creative Writing: Voices’ and was forced to look upon my soul in all of its glory, in all of its distain.

I consider the act of writing to be innate. It is more than part of my existence, it is the reason for my existence. Weaving words together is a thoughtless task, one that I would compare to breathing. You don’t calculate the way in which you breathe, you simply breathe and I don’t calculate the way in which I write, I simply write. That is how it has always been and the child within me thought that is how it would always be. That child was wrong. Continue Reading

Thoughts

Gay, Bald & Ginger

gay, bald & ginger

“You look like a giraffe”, “gay bald ginger”, “Damn your foreheads gigantic.”

That is a mere goody-bag of what is said about me on the internet. The reality is, people don’t like me. I am in a homosexual relationship, I have an abnormally large forehead, my voice is high, I have freckles and I openly share my opinions. Those attributes come together to create difference and even though we are living in a progressive era, those who are different are still crucified… I am crucified.

This article does not contain a cure. I am unsure of how to open the minds of the ignorant and fill them with the knowledge that we are all collectively human. I wish I could do that but the history of this world has taught me that no matter how hard you try, some people will always be left unconvinced. On that basis, I only want to share with you what I am sure of; myself. Continue Reading

Reviews Thoughts

The Abomination That Was 2016

2016

This year has been a compilation of absolute bullshit. I am unsure of the science behind it all, but it seems that everyone has struggled. From an orange being elected president to the scandalous breakup of the UK from the European Union, everyone has been affected in some way.

I personally deem this year as unsatisfactory due to having more family drama than the Kardashians, navigating through the mental health system, experiencing a few things that nobody should have to experience and smashing my brand new iPhone 7. I am aware that the last one is highly materialistic and indicative of my privilege but nevertheless, it has solidified my hate for 2016. Continue Reading

Thoughts

I Bite My Fingernails

fingernails

I cannot conjure any memory of having long fingernails because I never have. Since birth my fingers have always been in my mouth and my teeth have always been fixated on removing the nails from their rightful place. I never quite understood the motivation behind such an act, but I now have clarity; I live with anxiety.

Firstly, a distinction must be made between worry and anxiety. Worry is when you are unsure and nervous of something, whether that be starting a new school or speaking in public. Anxiety on the other hand, is a sense of doom. You believe that your existence is in jeopardy and that you cannot be saved. In addition to this feeling of hopelessness, you can’t help but ask the question,”What if”? Continue Reading

Thoughts

Is Blood Really Thicker Than Water?

family

I have always been told about the importance of family. “Blood is thicker than water.” “They will always be there for you.” “They will love you unconditionally.” Although I swallowed this wisdom without contemplation, age has forced me to throw it up. We now live in a time of fluidity and family is not excused from this. A person can choose their gender, a person can choose their sexuality and I truly believe a person can choose their family.  Continue Reading

Thoughts

We All Need to Relax

Let me tell you about my week. It began by travelling three hours on a plane to a little town in Australia that averages 30°C – 40°C each day. I then met two of my nephews for the first time and attempted to settle down in the place that I am to call home for the next three months.

It was all going well. It really was. I explored a few waterfalls, fell in love with the eternal heat, went for a morning run along the beach and sought out a job to compliment my summer. The positivity was short-lived though. Continue Reading

Thoughts

What I Have Learnt from Flatting

flatting

If you are confused by the title and more specifically the word ‘Flatting’, that is probably because you do not live in New Zealand. ‘Flatting’ is the New Zealand equivalent to living with roommates, housemates, etc. Although I will use the words ‘flatting’ and ‘flatmates’ in this article, please know that my advice is universal. Living with other people, no matter where you are in the world, can be an absolute fuckery.

At the beginning of this year, I made the bold move of moving in with my boyfriend, my ex-girlfriend, my ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend, and my party-animal friend. Without even describing my experience, I am sure many of you can guess the nature of it. Continue Reading

Literature

Brother

brother

That day I arrived I could see it in your eyes. It was pure impurity. You hated me. I stepped into your world, ripped down all of the walls and took the attention you held. I didn’t mean to though. It was the first time that I had met him. Your Dad was now mine. The man that had guarded you for twelve years, the man that had invested his entire spirit into your upbringing, he was now mine. I call upon the moment you denied such a reality, the morning you forced me to the ground. At first it was your eyes which nested your anguish, but now… it was your fists. Day by day you diminished my body. Each punch gave birth to new emotions. I didn’t think it was possible for a boy of my age to hold the feelings I held. You changed all of that. One punch… I question my wrongdoings, two punches… tears saturate my pillow and three punches… I turn on myself. I often thought about fleeing but I knew that I couldn’t. Nobody else wanted me. Continue Reading