My story of the bottle of Coca-Cola part2.

This is my story of the bottle of Coca Cola part 2.

Anyway, let’s start this story when I was like: “Screw you Mom. Screw you status quo against working class in the artworld…. this summer i’m going to work in a New York Gallery and I’m moving to Brooklyn!”

And then a couple of months later I was completely broke and like “Jus kitteh! Can I moves back in wit yous?”

So I moved back home and for two months, worked in a job which some1 like a Smizz should not work in and I squirreled away all my money like some sort of savage beast that squirrels away stuff, and yet isn’t a squirrel.

And then I saw this awesome flight deal to San Francisco… flying back to the UK from NYC

And I fell in love with the idea and imagined myself running around the west coast, with the sun laying down right on me… and life would be just grand!

 (thats supposed 2 be daydreaming, not a gypo kid)

And my fantasies may have looked something like this because I would be the master of the town, fo sure!

And the last fantasy involved me being totally sophisticated in NYC and having totally sophisticated dinner parties and being invited to cocktail parties where people drink sophisticated drinks and talk about sophisticated things like America’s Next Top Model.


Don’t ask what that picture is about. I googled sophistication and that’s what I got. Deal with it. So after I was done fantasizing about my new life as a criminal overlord the epitome of class and sophistication in San Francisco and NYC, I opened my payslip.

I totally just did slave labour this past month…. do I called my bank to see about getting preapproved for a  credit card. I had squirreled away all that money after all!

And they were like:

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! And when they finally stopped laughing and were able to catch their breath, they were like “You can afford this“:

And all my hopes were crushed, because while I may have saved all that money by living at home, I still had enough debt in the form of student loans for Scrooge McDuck to swim around in.

So yeah, and i thought going to Sheffield Hallam would be a cheaper option… But it’s not really, especially if you want experience in the artworld.

But fear not! Since i’m the philosophical type…

Fuck it, I knew I couldn’t afford University anyways… That didn’t stop me. And since i’ve never had any money anyway, why start now?

Money is common and easily earnt.  Either in a job, or the welfare. Where as experience is completely invaluable and inexchangeable. Experience is something that makes you, that makes me and everything else.

so I beat the system again, and got approved for a Student Credit card.

So while I may still not have a penny to my name,  or homeowner, or a criminal overlord , or the proud parent of an adorable little kitteh… I’ve created some AMAZING experiences for myself by taking risks and denying societially acceptable norms and values, so I bought myself a bottle of Coca-Cola because I think I deserve it. Cheers! Fo shizzle!

Published by smizz

Artist → Re-evaluating life→ Rad Oncology graduate + public health worker→ @lab4living PhD-er → Want 2 make a positive difference → Rule-Breaker → LIVE DRAWZ! → councillor! → Loves cities → rides fixie → adventures → wanna be ramen master → <3 Tokyo + NYC

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