Graffiti & The Gay

high school fun pt 1

Hi just wanna say if you like this can you tell me and if you have any good writing tips for a beginner it would help! This IS NOT a pastel and punk fic. It's got a kind of punk Phil though.
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤☆¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Dan's pov

"Daniel?" The teachers calls my name for the register. I don't know how many times I've told her to call me Dan. Countless. But she still insists on using my full name. "Here miss" I hear my voice drone out. I'm not in the mood for this lesson or this stuck up brat of a teacher. I'd rather be in our drama studio or the music hall. But here I am. 'Ready to work' as they always say. I can see the teachers mouth moving, but I hear no sound. I'm trying to concentrate. I promise. But it's not working.

Minutes feel like hours. I'm so done with this lesson and I still have another half an hour to go. Tick tock goes the clock. And other stuff like that. Oops I think that bit was important! I should have listened. Why does anyone need to know what the chloroplasts in the palisade cell do anyway. Biology sucks. But I was a nerd that got triple science. So I was stuck with it. Oh thank god it's time to leave! I have my stuff packed up and i'm out the door in seconds.

More dull lessons pass by and when it hits lunch break I'm already so done. I went and bought food from the lunch hall and promptly left the school. I didn't really have any friends apart from nerds in the library and a few friends in the drama department. But not proper friends. No just me and my music. No one really cared about me. My self confidence had already fallen off a cliff. And wasn't even attempting to climb back up! So it resulted in me getting completely left alone most of the time.

I normally don't go far when leave but today I was particularly bored. I wondered around untill I got to a main road. This section of the road wasn't very busy as usual. I continued to walk along the edge untill I reached a bridge. The whole of inside of the bridge was covered in graffiti. It was the first time I'd seen graffiti this good.

A certain piece caught my eye. A picture of a boy surrounded by words. Hateful degrading words. They seemed to be the boys own thoughts of himself. Like he had been told thise things so many timeshe began to believe it. But underneath it was a picture of the same boy but what was then meant to be a girl with him and both have smiles etched onto their faces. Sometimes one person can make all the difference. I would love to make that much difference in someone's life.

Other paintings like a misanthropic person curled away from others. I could feel his fear of others almost radiating from the picture. A sense of depression from his hollow and sad face. He looked hurt and as if he was unloved. I slowly lifted my hand and touched the part of the painting that was his cheek. I sighed and looked down. I walked around the bridge and another caught my eye. A world that seemed full but there was one lonley person. It seemed like it was trying to show that even in a populated world you can still feel totally and utterly alone. Just looking at all these master pieces that showed so much depth but people would still call this unwanted and you can still be fined for it. I resonated with many of the paintings. And eventually after looking at them for too long I just broke down. I slid to the floor and burrowed my head.

I didn't really cry. Well I can't remember what I did. But I know what was going through my head. I wasn't alone. Others felt very like me. I just hadn't seen them before. Because like me they were all tucked away. Hidden in their own little corners of reality not ever wanting to move. But the earth is like a tumble dryer, going round and round and chucking people around and messing them up.
I realised that now I loved this place. I remembered my way here and stored it in my brain. I did one last sweep of the paintings and checked my phone and left.

It struck me that I'd never really cared for graffiti before. I'd only seen it through stiff stuck up adults eyes. " disrespecting property" or " vandalising". But when you actually take the time to look carefully, it's an incredibly deep form of art. But no one ever does. And that's sad.

But it's kind of inspired me. I almost want to have a go. Try to create a conflicting picture. I can almost hear what my parents would say. "You are defacing property! How dare you! You know that it is a criminal offence!" In fairness they're right. But in my opinion all this graffiti makes it better. I refrain from calling it graffiti. To me it's much more. I wonder where you can get cans from. There's probably some back street store that sells some on the nasty run down side of town. I'll go and find one sometime. Probably after school. I can't be bothered to get up on weekends. I normally stay in pjs unless we have to go see my grandma. It's not like I have have anyone to see. So what's the point?! I know that a lot a people that can relate! It's like we're a team. Team awkward. That's what my friends at school call themselves. It's true to be honest. None of us ever have girl or boyfriends none of us are very confident and none of us are very good at talking to eachother or anyone else! The point was that we were all meant to have eachother but I've always felt I was just the tag along. Maybe that's what some of these people who graffiti feel like. The outcasts to the outcasts. I wish i could meet one if them...