I'm going to graduate and I get to leave the fucking academy! AH! I didn't like school so many bros and brauds (pushing mongo wearing flip flops, incapable of pivoting and lending people the idea that long-boarders are synonymous with skateboarders, and rudely get in the way without knowing how to ride a board; telva sandals, sunglasses, and that crass: 'cause it was just a fad to them... )that made me feel like Ponyboy, so I carried my butterfly knife, and then it just crumpled at the hinge and I had to carry it. And it was like holding cuts, being reminded that you don't belong to that kind of segregated community of "intellectuals" who'd sooner confuse privilege with intelligence. I'm so fucking relieved, and happy, sorry for the rant/awkward transition of skating into a reality where assholes'd sooner spend daddy's money, mismanaging every concept they encounter, including having fun: it all becomes about a fucking product in the end- that trend, that I reply with fuck that... fuck this, I'm done. GAME OVER!!!