So aparently im daft.

Its true, Nickolai is in India, Im in Australia, We are both experiencing life changing things, But mine seems so week in comparison, but my travels will not stop here, for where I want to go, and the things I wish to experince may one day take me to some of the places he is at. Congrats Nickolai your life will be forever changed, enjoy.

A boy, boxed pie, and a sunrise

The sun rose high above the mountains and danced, trickling rays of life upon the quiet, cold, paved road. What an odd place to find a boy, it should be natural to find a young man in the spectacular wild, that is the wilderness, but in todays modern campaign of television commercials and electronic video games, a child enjoying the wonders of nature is unfathomably scarce.

Please do note that by child it was meant teen, and by teen it is was meant teenager, a specific set of years between the ages of twelve and twenty, not including twelve or twenty that is. It does not really matter the age of this teen, but it would be safe to say he was a tad older than sixteen, only a little shy of eighteen, and meticulously perched upon a large stump.

The stump was old, but rather new. Counting the rings could take a long time, a precious commodity these days. Everything saves you time, using this item is 20% more efficient, allowing you to keep those priceless seconds.

But are things not more enjoyable if you have to wait? A lemon meringue pie made from scratch should rein supreme over one found in a box, on a pre-made shelf, in a chain store, that specializes in food commodities, although, those boxed pies are getting better and better. Unfortunately our time on that subject is up and a certain young man needs to be on his way.

On his way? Yes sir, it's off to school for this strapping young lad, School? Of course, this teen is off to learn everything, well everything that is deemed important by the people in suits, things like PE, Math, Art, and some other classes where he has to use his brain.

In PE, that is short for Physical Education, he learns the finer points of co-operation, respect, and of course how to catch a ball. All of which will come in mighty handy when he gets a job in a cubical and never has to see another living soul, for most of his day, not to mention most of the remainder of his life. Hooray for life, and time.

Math teaches you how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide, all are key to your survival in the future. But you also learn all that other insanely important stuff, like y=mx+b, or logs, and radians. Unfortunately you will come face to face with those, everyday for the rest of your not so incredible, not so important life, that has been medically enhanced to give you more of that oh so precious time. Which you will no doubt waste on your pointless time saving pie, trying to be the most famous, the coolest, the one selling the boxed goodness, in the boxed entertainment, in your pathetic boxed life.

What does all this have to do with that particular boy, absolutely everything, but he doesn't care, because he is about to see the true beauty of a sunrise for the very first time.

A simple Missunderstanding

How do you do, said the little browm fox, but no one heard because animals can't talk. so the mean farmer shot the little fox, because he thought it was after his chickens.

The Australian Education System Sucks

The room they sat in had four walls, two doors, and a roof. In case of a fire it was important to remember to exit through the left door only, because if you scurried out the right door, you would be trapped, and die. The walls were of fine white painted brick, of the large concrete family, piled at least 21 high, and more than twice that wide, many people sat in this room.

Taped to the wall, no push-pin could penetrate a perfect mix of paint and pores rock, was a littering of patsy papers, some with portrait prints of famous, promiscuous, dead people, some catchy quotes and slogans to live by, and the random sauce picture of someone far less fortunate then yourself.

A large dirtied writing board sat at the front of the room, anchored and fastened to the wall, whilst it was a black one? Dusted with dinosaurs? Or a fancy white one? Creamed with chemicals? Is of little importance, but what it read meant the world to those people. At least it did until a sharp siren echoed through he carbon copy rooms some 70 minutes later.

The words marched through one ear and out the other, except with the rude boys that sat in the rear right of the class; parts of the lesson sometimes meandered out other orifices in their body. Could anyone in this so called class remember 20 minutes past the 70 minutes why they had to learn about sex appeal, in their advertising unit, of their grade 11 English class, or why their acting ability was worth more of a mark, then their ability to put together a coherent, properly formatted sentence, or better yet why do they have to act in English at all?

Some of the famous dead people that portraits plaster the walls wrote some plays, that was the teacher ladies excuse.

Not a play does the same as a tale, it weaves a web of wonder, it sings a sorrow filled song, lets loose a story of love. She didn’t even state the obvious, well she did, but it was the wrong obvious. A play tells a complete story, beginning, middle, end, and is written and told completely in dialogue. The way the people talk uses literary devices, amazing alliteration, iambic-pentameter can even add sophistication to the rich.

None of this was said, but was said was make a play, it will be fun.

These 70 minutes, plus 20 minutes, plus 50 minutes, plus days and nights later, I still wonder, why?