Its a funny world we live in.

I really should be doing my economics assignment.
But...I really don't want to.
So Ive decided to write a blog.
To do with...starting a fresh. Moving away. A new life so to speak.
Well...I used to live on the coast.
I had alot of good friends there, some were like family to me.
They were like the cousins that always came round to visit.
Some the brothers and sisters I never had.
Though it wasn't all wine and roses, I had my share of bad luck, terrible fights, and spiteful enemies.
One so bad, I actually at some points feared for my life.
The funny thing is...he is now one of my good friends, I won't give names, but this guy wouldn't care if it were Hitler he was speaking to, if he didn't like you he would do everything in his power to make your life hell.
I never usually told people I didn't like them, I held it in, thought about how much I detest them, and not let it out.
If I told some one how much I despise them to their face, I really must hate them.
One guy, was one of the ones I hated behind their back. On the top appearing friendly, but inside wishing to tear them apart with my barehands.
He threw a stick at me, and it hit me in the eye.
Now when I say eye, at that moment I thought it was my eye, it was actually just under my bottom eyelid, and it came very close to blinding me.
Whether intentional, or unintentional, he became one of my worst enemies, but he didn't know it.
So did his girlfriend, but that was for other reasons that I won't discuss here, not yet anyway.
Well, you are probably wondering what this has to do with moving, I trailed off a bit, but I'll get there.
Anyway...apart from all that, all was well, I had my extended family (i.e- my friends), school was going well, and my home life was terrific.
Then came the news.
I was moving to the country.
At first it was disbelief, that all of a sudden I come home to the news that we are moving, but then I realised my Mother wasn't joking.
I told a few of my close friends, and eventually some aquantinces, who told some of their friends, and eventually it was common knowledge.
My days there were essentially numbered.
I argued the point repeatedly with my parents, threatening to move out, threatening to run away. Blah-blah-blah.
Eventually I gave in, and I just didn't care anymore.
I still kept some good friends, but everyone I didn't like got hell from me.
Teachers, students, everyone.
So, the day came, I had my fairwell with my friends, I had my last bus trip home, I had the last lonely walk home from the bus stop...until my parents picked me up half way to my old house, with trailers full of furniture.
I was never to return to my old house after that day.
And the following Wednesday I started at my new school.
I skipped a bit sorry, I went for an interview a few weeks prior, the people seemed nice, but I was still filled with a murderous hate for my Mother, taking me away from everything that ever made me happy.
I got accepted (Big Surprise...not) and it was the beginning of my first time as the new kid since year 5.
I was still mad on my first day, awkwardly saying hi to almost everyone I met, being led around like a dog to my classes, meeting new people, who at the time I had no idea would be so important to me.
Funnily enough, in my first class it was a substitute teacher, and she cried before the lesson ended.
Surely a sign of things to come.
I have a mixed rogues gallery of teachers, when I first met her, it seemed more fitting for my drama teacher to be in a straight jacket then teaching in a school, my english ext. teacher seemed like he was a university proffesor and that made me feel quite stupid in comparison to some of the other kids, my maths teachers awesome, I'm actually excited to get to maths, as opposed to the demon-woman that taught maths at my old school, my economics teacher is an oddball, looking at the roof/floor when he speaks, and pronouncing words strangely, I will be dropping economics next year, not because of him, but because I am bad at the subject.
My business studies teacher is like a worrisome mother, my english advanced teacher a proper speaking, mature,classic english teacher, and my religion teacher is a p.e teacher, so we'll see how she goes pronouncing the Qur'an (we are studying Islam at the moment).
Anyway...moving on, I was the new kid for about a week, week and a half at max, and then I found my place, and I found my friends that I knew would stick by me, and I them.
I found new friends surprisingly quickly, I even surprised myself, at first wondering if they were just being nice to me, because I was new.
But they are good people, and now that Ive found them I am no longer angry at my parents, Ive realised now they did it for me, not to go against me, and I owe them alot for the grief I put them through.
These friends, I won't name them, but they should know who they are, are one of the only reasons I'm still here, I wouldn't have been able to cope moving if it weren't for them, and they need to know that.
I may seem to be a bit overbearing at times, constantly talking to them, but thats only because I wouldn't want to lose them.
They are good people, and I am glad to have met them, this place would be unbearable without them.
I hate sounding like I don't care about what Ive left behind, because I do care, I miss my old life more than anything, and they will always be considered my friends, no matter what happens.
Though Ive found new friends up here, and they complete me.
I am thouroughly enjoying my new life in the country, and I never thought I would say this, but I'm glad Ive moved.
Its a funny world we live in, and I'm glad I'm in it.
Ledge.