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Having pointed out the high piss-take level of my how-to-guide, does it surprise you to know that I’ve actually tried out all the high school personas over the years?   I usually return to the moody sarcastic outsider just because we naturally have so much in common (bless his violent little cold heart), but yeah – to try and alleviate the mind-numbing boredom, I’ve had a go at most of the roles.   Dux, geek, class clown, dropout – would you believe Jonathon was the fucking prom king one year, friends?!

All true this time.   So yeah – I’ve been captain of the (indoor) basketball team and scored myself a posse of cheerleader girlfriends who didn’t mind the hickeys.   That was useful, but dreary to maintain.   High public profile – too many daylight hours for my liking.   I was valedictorian this one time – made an awesome speech about consumerism and how we should all go out into the world and succumb to corporate greed, and join the feast, and eat our fill, and be out for blood.   Fucking funny watching the teachers nodding approvingly at the start, then getting increasingly agitated…   Something similiar happened one year when I had the lead in the school play: it was all going so well until closing night when the girl playing Ophelia was really found dead.   Just not drowned.   What a bloody mess that made.   Come on though – it’s appropriate.   Tell me Hamlet isn’t the original emotional leech.   That guy sucks everyone dry by the end of the play.

Yet, every six years or so, poor old Jonathon has to pack his bags and shuffle off his immortal coil to become another missing kid statistic.   Find some new town and some new school and some new – let’s say for the sake of convenience – life.   Then he signs himself up to attend again, stoops and sniggers for a bit in the early years when he looks too old, chooses a new persona or revises an old role to play in the comfort of the middle years, graduates or flunks out (depending on how he’s feeling), sometimes scores a job or bums around for a while until people get ansty about the how-young-you-look-for-your-age thing.   And then the cycle begins again.   Shit.   I mentioned it was hell, didn’t?   Like that sicko movie Groundhog Day – the stuff of fucking nightmares, that one.

So much easier in years past when teenagers weren’t invented and you could own land at 15, marry at 13 and start full-time work at eight.   No-one looked twice at me: I had decades of joy and travel, carnage and sight-seeing, and power and sex and blood sports.   Then bloody westerners start introducing obligatory school attendance, and I escape to the east for a while until the local humanitarians begin campaigning for new education systems there too.   Don’t get me wrong – learning stuff is fine, but the institution needs a lifespan.   Okay, I mean a deadline.   Fuck it – you know – a bloody end in sight.

Checked out poorer countries where sure, the living was easy and the eating easier, but I’m a hedonistic bastard at heart.   I like my creature comforts, and in the general drudge of immortality, I like new stuff, and action, and noise, and a nightlife to play in and plenty of crowds to play with.   Spot the city boy.

I do go on “holiday” – couple of years somewhere to avoid the inevitable social workers/truant officers/police, and where enough money means people don’t ask questions about the kid travelling alone.   Recently tried out the home-school shit, but with Eddie reluctant to ever turn up in person for any official face-to-face corroboration, I bailed pretty fast.   Other than that, I’ll spend a few years “on the streets” playing at being a criminal and enjoying escaping the clutches of charity do-gooders and the slow hands of the law.   And of course, Jonathon was in juvie for a while, but fuck that – it was pretty much high school, but the kids were less vicious and drug-fucked.   And I’ll even hibernate sometimes for a bit between school stints, but to tell you the truth, that rarely lasts long.  

I’m a restless sleeper.




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