I read 200 hundred pages of the highly controversial “Lolita” yesterday whilst i lay out in the sun. Despite its depravity and intensely immoral undertone, it still never fails to give me the same sort of chills any other romantic novel would with the phrases such as “light of my life, fire of my loins, my Lolita.” I understand that a book based around pedophilia isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I truly believe that it’s a book that everyone should try and read at some point of their lifetime, just to give a different perspective.
It’s fair to say that high school wasn’t my element. Some people thrive on the structured days, 7am wakeup call and the constant swarm of people, however, i was certainly not one of them. I wasn’t popular, or unpopular, and I had a lot of friends, but I never completely connected with many of them. The counsellor that I used to see told me that this was due to the trauma I had endured in the past, causing me the become frustrated with many of the petty matters a lot of my friends brought up.
Without the support with my teachers, my schooling life wouldn’t have been endurable. The man giving me bunny ears was my history teacher, he was also a vegan so he was a pretty weird dude, however, nonetheless he was one of the most genuine people I’d ever met. The Welsh women embracing me drunkenly above was my house leader. Until I’d met her I’d never known such unconditional kindness and love from someone that I wasn’t related to. We laughed together as well as cried. In my darkest times I’d crawl into her office and there was never a time that she wouldn’t stop what she was doing and have a chat with me. My relationship with the very intelligent man below is probably the most difficult to describe. He was my mentor throughout Years 9, 10, 11 and 12 as well as my English and Literature teacher. He was a comedic genius and never shied away from letting everyone in his vicinity know about it. Over the years we grew a mutual respect for one another that I doubt many people can match. I’d verbally abused him through email as well as having cried on his shoulder, we pushed each others buttons until there were no more to be pressed. But most of all, he was my teacher in my favourite subject, teaching me more than any other teacher ever had before.
I’d hate to imagine what my high school life would have been like if it hadn’t been for the support of these exceptional human beings. So for that, I am eternally grateful.