To write.

Facebook doesn't have a blog. Myspace had a blog (i think) even Bebo had a blog and that was used by 14 year old deviants and 40 year olds preying on 14 year old deviants.
So here I am lending a piece of my mind to anyone willing to reach out and grab it.

In year 9 (that's 13-14 years old) at high school I failed my Music class. I didn't fail a test as such but I failed to perform to the teachers expectations.
They gave us keyboards as an instrument, it wasn't Yamaha or anything fancy but it did have those programmes. The class would listen to what'shisface The planets and then learn and at the end each make up their own composition. I learned these songs but at the end i'd decided to then learn from memory the theme tune from Terminator 2. I found the right programme and right keys to start from and the tempo. The teacher went around the room each performing a slight differentiation from their chosen song from the Planets. My turn came and i played my piece, it was instantly recognised and it brought a ere of entertainment, the teacher was least impressed when i asked for a second keyboard so i can punch in the *thud thud thud thudthudthud* every couple seconds.
I failed because i didn't conform.

Later on after i got back into the teachers "good side" she did an exercise and got each person to list and reason their favourite band or artist.
Back then the Drum and bass infection was spreading. so we had lots of DJ this and MC that. Chart hits here today gone tomorrow. A friend answered with bands like Oasis, Sum 41. He already got props because he was in a band he played bass guitar.
My turn came and i answered with Nirvana and Nine Inch Nails. The music teacher had heard of them. She said my non-conformism roots from such artists.
Apparently you can tell 5 hobbies or interests from starring at a person for an hour a few minutes if you're really observant. I wasn't a goth, jock, trendy, popular, or at least I didn't dress as such. I was friends with those whom shared my interests but never mirrored their fashion. I was a ghost at high school. seeing the class rotor go round but never intimately involving myself. I got bullied yeah but then i felt alone, no real allies. I'm an only child so "independence" is what i'm all about.  got observant to character and even developed my own, long hair, black clothes, band merch.

Every other Friday night I started going to an under 18's night club called "Korruption" danced, got hot and heavy with friends and strangers. it was a  rather friendly community. those fad-clads and top hit-chart CD buyers never appeal to me really. No real roots, no passions, no soul. My mother would blast Thin Lizzie out of the house while she cleaned the windows and hoovered, i'd hear upon walking home in the summer once upon a time.

Nowadays Music plays such a small part in my life. Sure i will try to go to gigs. I have The Twins of Evil tour later this month. I'm more focused on "conformist" goals. Making money, making a life, making time to spend with loved ones.
The economy of this fair country is in disarray at present (not like it's my place to say so) and i always dreamt that if i got rich (assuming ofcourse it was by some single act like winning the lottery or publishing a best seller.) i'd donate a percent to charities or the family of friend's (after my own) because i wouldn't be able to say it was "hard earn't scratch" I've worked hard and earn't "scratch" watching it get swallowed by necessities and the system. I'd feel guilty, not guilty enough to dump it all mind you. I would however measure my income and spend just enough to make savings (like any minimum wage family). spend on luxuries, family, friends, and then when i have run out of ideas i'd spend on charities, and those less fortunate. I will not stockpile, my children will work like me, like my father. Growing up in a working class family, and in poverty i've developed a respect for, well, anything i consider, anything i observe. Those rich never walk the streets, through that rough estate hoping no bad comes. Never work a job to pay the bills knowing how satisfying it would be to tell your obnoxious, self-important supervisor to "suck it."

It all builds Character
Character feeds our soul, so we are never truly alone.