A Month After Expulsion

So, I was expelled from Centennial College in Toronto, I really want to go to the US for journalism. Specifically Boston or New York, although I believe not being a native resident may prove to be hard, especially at the age of 33.

I also endorse Trump.

Have you seen that Netflix series by Ricky Gervais called After Life? Well it was a fantastic show about how a man who loses his wife, deals with being alive and alone. At least what he feels to be a lonely, and agonizing existence where he wants to commit suicide. I’m really selling it, at least I hope to be. I have had a tremendous amount of experience with loss, so it’s no wonder that it is a reoccurant theme in my life.

Maybe, just maybe, I unconciously seek out these types of shows because they make me feel less awful about myself, and that someone else knows what this suffering is like.

I just like Ricky Gervais’ comedy, I saw the Golden Globes this year which he hosted, and let me tell you something, if you even were thinking the above and thought that it made complete sense, you’re what’s wromng with the world.

Which brings me to the explusion, why Centennial College expelled me. It was based on rumour and “mean girl” tactics. Most teachers were people pleasers, feminist, liberals, man-children. They wanted me to “lead” the students (which makes no sense because I’m there to learn stuff as well), but it wasn’t to lead them to lead successful lives, or be solid individuals; rather, it was to lead some nazi regime based on some ridiculous concoction of feminist, liberal and religious ideology.

Everytime I did something someone else didn’t agree with, or they didn’t even like me, they blamed me for something and slowly I was moved into suspension, twice, the police were called on me, I appealed and then they eventually suspended me.

View at Medium.com

But hear me out, I love writting, I love rreporting, I love being informed, knowing things, and letting the relevant people also know things. I like taking photos, taking a lot of photos allows me to choose the best ones for use in my articles (like the Image in my last post). To articulate to me that I have to ask consent to take a picture of my friend, you must really have something wrong in your life.

I am not sure I’m at the age where it’s appropriate for me to be in a school setting anymore, which is why I absolutely despise all of the people who were on board with the ridiculous dicatorship. I do want to say, in a sense I was in school during these last 6 years, my whole life was school, everyday. People were paranoid, they were trying to read your mind through all sorts of methods, they were “mentalizing“, people had these undying ego, there were so many things happening.

Yeah, I probably sound like a crazy person, though I might be and probably am that crazy person.

I’d really like to take my studies across the pond and finish journalism there, instead of this bullshit here in Canada.

But now, I am just focused on the gym. I’ve always been the one who healed what people broke, without ever retaliating or hurting those who had hurt me. For 6 years I was like this, fighting against the unnecessary demands of feminism, the LGTBQ and the “woke” people.

I’ve also had to fight with men, egotistical men. The ones that feel hurt when a girl complains to them about some made up problem that hurts them so much; then it’s “Daddy to the rescue“, right?

What was the point of this entry ….

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