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I checked out somewhere mid-way through secondary (high) school. I was never going to achieve at the level that I felt was expected of me (perfection), so why bother. I did manage to get a decent enough Leaving cert. Enough to get me a place in a degree course, and away from home. I'm glad I'm not back there. It was a sh^tty time.
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'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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