The Fuel to My Ambition

The fuel to my ever reaching ambition is: many things actually. From the area that I live in, to the things I’ve always wanted but never been able to afford, mixed in with the destructive nature of the uneducated inhabitants of the area in which I live.

9am, I wake up and take Oscar for a walk. The route I usually walk down. Every morning my area ALWAYS has something new to offer. And whoever said new was better, had not been to GL. In this area this commonly used phrase could mean a freshly dead rat at the bottom of your garden or bags full of rubbish dumped meters away from your front door. So I’m walking, up the grey pothole infested road (because 0 council funding goes into this area), when I reach the gate way to descend down wooden sleeper steps to the railway. This is a passage, unsurprisingly, used to be a railway. It has an abundance of trees, shrubs and wildlife on either side, encasing the narrow path. Birdsong fills the air and different species of birds harmonically chirp to one another. It is beautiful. Well, It could be beautiful. As I turn left and proceed down the stairs I see 2 bodies, one person is on a higher step to the other, and I feel as though my eyes are deceiving me. Yes, at 9am in the morning I unfortunately (and that’s to put it lightly) saw a couple having sex, in the wide open, approximately 4 meters from the road. You actually cannot write this shit. Completely, dumbfounded and struggling to comprehend what had just happened I scurried on. Taking the longer route around to continue with Oscar’s much needed morning walk. Of all the weird and, quite frankly disturbing, events that I have had the displeasure of encountering, this has to be the most disgusting.

Today, walking Oscar once again down the spiralling sleepers to the lower terrain of the railway, we passed a mountain of rubbish. I just don’t understand it. Of all the countries I have been fortunate enough to visit, England is by far the dirtiest. The lack of respect for ones surroundings here is inconceivable and it starts when kids hit that bratty prepubescent stage. For some reason totally unknown, it becomes ‘trendy’ to throw litter and in not doing so, you, the one who is protecting the planet is regarded as a weirdo. This peer pressure perhaps, changes something in these people and stays with them through to adulthood. Their ignorance and their anti-social behaviours are the only excuses as to why they behave in such a barbaric manner and fly tip all of their: dirty nappies, gone-off bread and other foods, shoes, knickers, microwaves, mattresses, chairs, plastic bags, tinned food, dressing gowns, toys, glass, the list goes on (and on). On this particularly brisk morning, I was already pretty bummed out because of the cold, to have my feelings contaminated with a gust of anger and repulsion at the sight of this tip. I just feel like rounding these people up and saying (even though it would be a complete waste of my breathe) ‘there is consequence to clearing your home in this way. In doing so you are destroying hundreds of habitats’ I wish I could shrink them to a 20th of their size and throw rubbish all over them. The saddest part is that this isn’t the only place which is infested with the unwanted possessions of others. This wasteland spans the entirety of the track and in writing this I am taken back to when I was a child and was riding my bike down there with my dad. We rode under the first bridge and to my tiny minds surprise (because I was so unaware of the hostile nature of the inhabitants of GL), there was a fire blazing in a straight line extending over the 2 meters of path, blocking our way. It’s crazy how I’ve never had to think of that memory before. Trapped in an unnamed folder in my mind, ‘the shit that happens here’ – a memoir.

Ever the pessimist, I try to always find something beautiful in everything (‘trying’ being the operative word here). My efforts, after tireless searching, have been put to rest here. There’s only so many times you see the same heroin addicts lurking on the streets asking you for some change to feed their addiction. Or the abundance of drug dealers that congregate around the corner shop in their crap speeding cars. It’s also the huge issues like racism, something that I believe is still very much a fighting issue here today. My area is extremely multicultural yet segregated. Everyone keeps themselves to themselves and the word ‘community’ is foreign. When will people realize that we’re all in this bat-shit crazy life together, what is gained from being unpleasant, and what is lost through being kind? The little things also come into play like: not being able to wear a summer dress walking the streets without being harassed on the street or by various perverted old men (who are always white, even though zed men like to claim that it’s all the immigrants from around here stealing their jobs and their wife’s) driving slowly by, even stopping sometimes like, in their wildest fantasies I’d be like: ‘yeah of course mister, take me away in your car XO’. Finally, no-body (maybe like 5% of Boltonian’s) understand fashion. Heads turn when I walk down the street but I do not necessarily think this is a good thing. The elderly look at me in a queer way like they’re in a contemporary art gallery and they don’t understand what the piece is trying to say. And from women, ill get the occasional ‘Hello’ or ‘I love that jacket’ but this is heavily outnumbered by the callous stares that penetrate deep into my soul.

This is the ever pumping fuel to my ambition. It reminds me of the way Joey Badass raps about the ends he was from and how; like a phoenix from the flames, he rose above it. I plan to do the same. World domination. Or just enough money to get myself and my family TF out of here!



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