Anyway, I guess I should start from the beginning. I grew up in Wildwood, NJ. I don't believe that it's as bad as everyone says it is though. Sure, I will admit that there are some places in Wildwood I wouldn't go during the day, let alone at night, but that's not the entire island. But I'm getting off track. Well, I grew up in Wildwood. I started school a year early because my birthday was close to the beginning of the year. I began school and didn't think much of it the first day, at least from what I remember. I was pretty shy, and I wasn't very adept at making friends on my own. But I met a few people, and I basically opened up and started making friends with everyone. I spent my summers visiting my great grandmother, great-great grandmother, grandmother and father in Burlington. The rest of the year I lived with my mother in Wildwood and went to school there.

I went to Glenwood Ave. Elementary for my first 4 years, Kindergarten to third grade. I liked school back then. Made alot of friends, like I said. I unfortunately kept very few of them. But I'll get to that later.

For fourth grade, I moved to North Wildwood. While there, I became sorta introverted and stopped talking to alot of people. I don't remember why because it was a regression to the way I used to be when I started school at Wildwood. Margaret Mace, that's the name of the school, is the reason I don't do my homework most of the time. This being because, in Wildwood, they didn't overload us with homework, at Margaret Mace the teachers believed in giving you hours of work. Anyhow, sooner or later I accidentally punched the wrong kid in the nose which resulted in at least half the fourth grade and a few sixth graders trying to beat the crap out of me. I don't get into fights anymore. I pretty much ran most of the year. But I did make a few friends. One good thing did come out of that year, my mom married my stepdad. After that year, I moved back to Wildwood.

I expected Wildwood to be a relief from being in North Wildwood. Well, I didn't have an army of my peers trying to beat me to a pulp, but all those people that I used to count as friends, well, lets just say that people can change alot in the course of a year. I still had a few of my old friends, but a good majority held some unknown grudge against me or something because they didn't seem to want to give me the time of day. But I didn't have to run for fear of being beaten up anymore. But it still wasn't what I was hoping for, which was being able to go back to the way things were. I've learned time and again, even though I haven't lived half a life time, that you can't go back to "the way things were". It just doesn't happen. If you succeed at such a thing, my congratulations to you, for I've never figured out how to accomplish it myself. It would have saved me a ton of grief. Anyway, to quit the rambling and move on, Wildwood was almost as bad as North Wildwood, not completely because of the circumstances, but because it's horrible to find new enemies in the place of old friends. I later left Wildwood before 8th grade. I moved to Virginia.

Virginia was a change of pace. Though it may sound hypocritical, I didn't want to leave Wildwood, because while I hated being there at times, it was familiar and I did have a small group of friends. But I guess it was definitely for the better for me to have moved to Virginia, because I may have sooner or later conformed to what everyone else saw as cool just to fit in with my former friends. And I cannot imagine a worse fate than to have conformed to their standards. We moved to Virginia because my stepdad is from that area, and both he and my mom wanted to get out of Jersey. We moved into a pretty big house in a town called Onancock. The heat was really bad, and for some odd reason that I can't comprehend, the previous renters of the house had the heat on, in the summer. And they had left it on for us. I got a room upstairs across from my sisters. The house wasn't in the best of shape, but the things that were wrong weren't apparent right away. There was a leak in the living room ceiling and the stove had to be fixed. That was the worst of it, I think. But it was a nice house, we had a creek that ran under our driveway, a big front porch, and a huge yard. School there wasn't bad. Definitely a change for the better, no one trying to beat me senseless and no old friends turned to new enemies. I once again became introverted. I made a few friends, same as usual. I enrolled in art and shop class and I joined the newspaper. I kept to myself except for the few people I called friends. In the middle of that year, after 2nd marking period, I moved back to Jersey, and North Wildwood of all places. I was expecting fourth grade all over again when I moved back. I love it when I'm wrong sometimes. Everything was either forgiven, or forgotten. Nobody gave me any trouble. I actually half enjoyed it, but I moved to Erma in Lower for the 4th marking period. I didn't like 8th grade there. But I passed on to 9th grade and that was better. A few people from 8th grade matured a little for the better. They didn't act quite so juvinile. But far be it from me to hold a grudge.

Anyhow, to continue, I was finally in high school. I took piano when I got there. My interest in music had sparked while I was in Virginia, and I needed to play. I was at Lower from 9th to 10th grade. During that time, I participated in every recital possible, joined the choir in 10th grade. I took art at the same time, and learned a bit of Spanish in Spanish 1. However, my favorite phrase is 'Yo soy un pescado oro muy grande', and if you say that to a spanish person, they're gonna give you a weird look. To move on to other things. While in piano class, I wrote 2 songs and started a third. No lyrics to them though, they're more like classical pieces. 10th grade was my last year in Lower.

For 11th grade, I applied to Cape May Tech. I got in and left Lower. I enrolled in the Commercial arts shop. I had decided that art was what I wanted to do with my life. Not classical stuff like paintings. I had no desire to be a starving artist, whose work didn't have a chance at recognition till he was dead. At the time, I was set on becoming a comic book artist. Well, I might still want to do that. Only time will tell. But there is the distinct possiblity of me going another route. In 11th grade, I finished off Spanish with my second year of the class. I can now come up with better phrases. 'El queso es en el ojos del Pedro,' which roughly translates to, 'The cheese is in Pedro's eyes.' At least I can ask where the bathroom is.

Tech was a good move. I made some more friends and learned quite a bit while I was there. My grades even improved. I unfortunately made a mistake that I won't get into here. Let's just say that sometimes you can't trust family. But on a lighter note, I went on to 12th grade, my senior year. I moved in with a friend for this year.

My parents had once again decided that they had to leave Jersey. I made it abundantly clear that I had no intention of leaving this time. To my suprise, my parents let me stay in Jersey. So I got to finish school here, amidst friends, instead of strangers in another state. Life moved on. I was, by this time, teaching myself guitar. The piano had taken a back seat. I also attempted the violin. I never thought that it was possible to prefer the sound of nails on a chalkboard. I haven't gotten very good at all. Well, that year I took art again. But I also took Computer Tech and learned about webpage design, Qbasic, and networking. I forgot most of it, but I can still build a webpage. Anyway, I met some really great people, got a taste of the working life, and graduated. I was finally out of high school. I enrolled for another year of art at tech. I didn't want to go to college right away, so I tried to use my time wisely. I think I did.

I spent the next year working and trying to get my life together, but I got severly off track in respects to the latter. I ended up becoming somewhat of a loaf, and became rather stagnant, as to the fact of going to college and getting on with my life. After a full time job fell through, my parents managed to convince me that coming to Tennessee and living with them was the best course of action for me. So I did. Shortly after arriving here, I got a job at Wal-Mart. I worked as a cashier, and managed to buy myself a decent computer. I kept in touch with my friends to the best of my ability and worked. I went back to my old reading habit of blasting through a book in like 7 hours. Music has become a hobby more than it was. I seldom pick up my guitar and don't remember the last time I touched my keyboard. Though playing is still important. I even started writing a book that I hope will turn out good.

That's most of my life up to this point. To get a bit off course, I'm just gonna spill out thoughts. The farthest back I can trace my liking to draw is, my mother told me she used to give me a drawing pad when I sat in the shopping cart when she went grocery shopping. She did it just to keep me quiet. But it got me into art. From there I used to draw all sorts of weird things. Most of what I drew was Super Mario Brothers, Ninja Turtles, that sorta thing. Now I draw whatever pops into my head. I didn't earnestly teach myself how to draw, I just drew. If I didn't like the way something looked, I threw the drawing away. I didn't use a lot of color, or paint or anything, just a pen and paper or pencil and paper. Art became an integral part of my life.

Music also became something I loved. I used to mess around with my cousins piano. The first song I learned was the Axle Foley theme from Beverly Hills Cop. True, it's not Mozart, but I could play it. I somehow managed to learn to play by ear, and I tried every song I could think of. I ended up learning from 2 great piano teachers. One at Wildwood High, the other at Lower. Guitar had always fascinated me too though. It's amazing how close you can be to learning something. A few simple facts where all that kept me from learning the guitar. But I learned how to play that, and I'm still learning. The term "Music soothes the savage beast" is true, in more than one sense.

I'm gonna end this here because I'm probably just rambling now. Thank you for taking an interest in me. You'll notice I left out names. This is not the complete story of my life. I left out a lot of information that I don't care for the world to know. Remember, If your a jerk, expect for everyone else to be jerk right back. You can't take without giving and expect compassion from others. The world doesn't work that way. There might be a lot of cheats and thieves. Don't add to their numbers.

If you want, you can E-mail me at simon_713@hotmail.com