05 November, 2010

Backwards and downwards.

Today, I went to visit my New School. I say New School with two capital letters, because that is all it has been referred to as by the (probably coked-up, judging by the state of it) teachers for the last year or so. As I mentioned in my post a couple of weeks back, I'm really going to miss the old buildings. I was only there for two and a bit years, so I feel like I have no right to miss it, but I do. Most of these overpaid, underused teachers spend most of their time ranting on about how much history our school represents and carries forward with each generation. Yeah? No. Not really. It makes me so ANGRY when our ''headteacher'' moans on sanctimoniously about what St. Barts stands for. How much more contradictory can you get, when you're stood at the front of the cream, clapboard Luker Hall in the new 'school' (mental asylum to those clued in), telling the students about the very first generation to walk those halls. The halls I'm still supposed to be walking in! It's not fair, along with this cheap glass-and-chrome excuse for a school comes a new set of rules reminiscent of those applied to the Hitler Youth. Everywhere, teachers lurk venimously with their beady eyes, pouncing on any poor unwitting student with the sheer cheek to walk along with their shirt untucked. Cor. Bearing in mind that today, I went to school with my iPod in, black-red nail polish on, black eyemakeup, untucked shirt and lollipop, I'm surprised they didn't throw me off the balcony into the 'Hub Space'. Yeah, that's another thing! What on God's Earth is a HUB SPACE?! It sounds like something from 28 Days Later. Take us to your plasterboard leader. Jaysus...

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