You be the judge of my longish somewhat short, maybe just right story.

This is a story of my life that I have written in no particular format, this was free written and was written for the audience rather than my own. This is the story of how bullying affected my life.

By: Daniele Gilles Gravina.

There is no particular style to this writing, this will be an abstract story free written off the top of my head.

So here I am another human, judged, confused... I sit here looking out over this computer I have in front of me and all I see for miles is green rising up to meet the blue sky, it’s like 8:34 am I bet everyone’s asleep my dad was up to watch the Ferrari race, I don’t know why they find that so amusing. All They watch is other people race around a track instead of pursuing that dream themselves. It’s interesting too, because my father is a great driver and very precise with his line of sight. He’s a jeweler and he’s probably made some priceless works of art of his own imagination that if you breathed on them the wrong way they’d probably lose their value; but that’s not where I got that from, you should see the man throw a shoe when you get on his nerves. That’s precision at its finest. In the background all you hear is these beautiful birds and the sound of the stream at the bottom of the cliff. Words like beautiful fall short, because I haven’t even mentioned the smell of the cool wind as it swoops through the green valley. Poetic justice like Kendrick Lamar, you’re probably in a black room taking me for my word but you know true beauty. It’s genetic in a way. A part of proper brain development to recognize life as this balance of life and death. They’ll call me the young Darwin someday, but it’s not just the animals that impress me, it truly is the physics of the world; the recordable patterns. We are always aware that we are not 100% correct so we unlike the faithful in the world accept the odds of uncertainty. However in that understanding of uncertainty we find truth in the physical world if you take a look around. It’s always happening and it’s so parallel, yet opposite of human understanding. It’s everything at once and nothing all at the same time. A plane travels overhead, its sound echoes through the valley and it’s position is still unknown, the emptiness of this forest allows for sound to travel like a natural acoustic amphitheatre which for humans would be good because we would probably walk along valleys to find prey and water. Anyway back to reality I came here this morning not even just to see this. I came here selfishly as it sounds to think and let my imagination run through my fingers and into the computer. So that maybe a person somewhere out there would read this and see there are unknown people out there. Or plain old bros that are lawn irrigation servicemen. That behind a face is a story of another person who may just surprise you; the diamond in the rough that chooses to come off rough. I wasn’t ever bullied realistically to my face as a kid, I was born into an era of gossip, an era where you’re judged immediately and you become the s**t to shoot. In my town it was a huge Italian population we consisted of five school of which four where catholic schools, as you can imagine being born in the early 90’s and mental consciousness by the late 90’s the Italian euro gino bros had a huge impact on the view of Italian culture in my area, because My town was originally an English settlement. Over the years more Italians moved from the cities and into small suburbs like my town. Haha I get so carried away... I was a child of understanding that waking up at 6:30 was the best thing because the sun would just come up and you could feel like you lived two days in one by the time you’d fall asleep. Life for me was always more important in a sense not to waste the hours but rather to waste money. See hockey was fun, and it cost money. But life, the outdoors, building forts, building go karts, anything that required using my own intuition and ability to learn for myself and use my imagination to its fullest potential made me happy. As I grew up all I ever heard was do this and do that, if you don’t do this you’re too much of that, until it was no more of a joke than the hand games played on the playground of elementary schools. In those catholic schools, the majority was 98% Italian and in the one public school, named after the street it was on; was all of the Canadian kids. It was interesting watching the confrontations between the ital bros and the Canadians because neither side ever had a reason to fight, they just listened to their older brothers and immediately judged the other side. Ah the art of storytelling. The one sided history taken as the full truth. It’s now 9:05 and I’d like to rep my people for a second. Stand up 905, oh I forgot they’re sleeping. I’ll stand by the name young Darwin for today because today I read a quote to inspire me to get up that said “A man who dares to waste an hour of time has not discovered the value of life.” I thought gee thanks Darwin I’ll get the f**k up then. Back to school, I always like to be the mediator of the groups, the person who would friend both sides of the coin because neither where any better nor worse than the other, they where all good people with interesting stories that contrast either so well or so polar to mine on both sides of the spectrum. See I was like the trees in Lord of the Rings, I didn’t choose a side because nobody ever wanted me for a reasonable purpose, and it was always to solve their problems for a fight they were in. Me being me the dickhead I am decided I would just feed the flames, I’s always make either side kill each other with kindness, it was hilarious because they end up hating each other behind the backs of the mutual friends but kiss and hug when they’d see each other in person. There was nothing quite better than the bros with the kill counts of all the girls they’ve been with or the girls who were ridiculed for how many guys they’ve been with but that is the late elementary/high-school years. So here I am sitting at this moment on a chair with my feet up on a block of wood overlooking a valley as the sun comes up behind me, I take a pause from my story to once again remind you that I’m currently living and it’s pretty cool. I truly hope someone reads this to a point in which they are satisfied enough for an up vote at least (Y).......... self-advertisement, I hope it works. I lived in 158 Taylorwood Ave Bolton, Ontario, Canada. You can Google earth that if you feel like, it was in an area in my town referred to as the north hill, on the north hill were all my earliest homies that I still know to this day and most of them still reside. People always used to have this saying that people change. I never understood their intended meaning when they’d say that because in those schools I like to meet new people, and then based on the amount of time you spent with another person and because in order to do that you can’t spend as much time with an already made friend, they would say you’ve changed. I mean they told you when you were a kid to make friends, but when you make friends they all start to hate you and tell you, that you’ve changed when you’re just simply not around as often, I didn’t know that you became property of another person upon becoming friends. See the idea of friends is that you share personal; stories that if you tell each other they’re considered secrets, so when you become friends with more people they begin to grow jealous/envious/delusional etc. They begin to form a broken telephone gossip system to let you know that they also know something about you that they think you may be afraid or embarrassed if it spreads out to people you don’t know, or don’t have any dirt on. I never intended to care who knew anything about me because they are the fools that are listening for no reason. I didn’t attempt to make friends off the s**t I talked, but only by being like a Gandalf to the common Bilbo, you’ve gossiping to long, get out of your house and go on an adventure, you might like it. I merely walked into the social door when I felt like it because I wanted to try it out, and because of my more I guess intellectual nature and I did not form that conclusion, they keep saying it to me, or that I’m weird, crazy, dumb, what the f**k are you saying, oh my god like you’re so random. What a life to adopt, being yourself in world of sheep get’s you a crown amongst the fools. To the real delusional King Lear’s. In elementary school we obviously had to play the competitive physical world games like hockey, soccer, anything requiring coordination and skill. Up until then I was asking my mom why the sky was blue and I guess now was a good time to interact with the other monkeys. They made fun of me at first because I wasn’t the regular, I was more of an outcast, the kid who sat in the field at first watching from afar, picking the dandelions  and getting dirty. The day I stepped up and tried to play foot hockey, no respect was given and I didn’t get to play that day. But I watched them, I learned a little but what I learned that day was how to gain respect in the social world. There was this kid I don’t want to say his name, but he was two years older and he used to take the kids tennis ball on second recess. The next day when that kid showed up, I put him in a headlock and punch his head in. He was older so he didn’t want the older kids to know or anyone for that matter and I knew that. It was harsh of me but he could take his low self-esteem and learn to handle it as I did; which was think. All the kids cheered and hollered my last name saying “Gravy! Gravy! Gravy!” however my last name was Gravina. Hooray for terrible first nicknames. That name carried for a while until it died out like all other fads and trends. Midway through the year of grade four in Ms. Shoebe’s class It was time I’d leave and get another perspective and perception of multiple realities. I moved to Toronto where I attended Venerable John Merlini’s catholic elementary school while living at my grandmother’s house in Toronto. This was a period of time in which we had bought a new house that was still being built in another region of my hometown which came tagged with name GP, which I’ll explain a little more with depth soon enough. At that house we went through quite an experiment with life I shall say, we all did learning about ourselves and our real personalities that made my family such a strong unit. We fought the roughest times seen by harsh realities portrayed by common media but through it all, my father and my grandfather always taught us, nevermind the bullshit, life is what you make of it and home is where your heart beats that night. We were humble people because we never had much we enjoyed what the earth gave to us, and my grandfather taught us that through hunting, fishing and the outdoors as kids, he showed us the natural world and really showed us that all natural beauty in the world comes from the earth and how you respect it, and each other. But he also stressed that physical violence did indeed protect you. You see the harsh reality of life is that it is physical and mental, a struggle on all fronts and that if you want to survive you have to take was is rightfully yours, which is life. It is a competition and no to people are completely equal. So on first day of my new school. When every kid was still into toys, and cards like yu-gi-oh and what not, I decided to pretend like I was the physical, yet intelligent, nice, kind, daring, yet I will f**k up anyone who dares personality. So with that I could befriend and give like a protection system to everyone I met. I’d let them believe I was their smart yet lesser guard dog that they knew could f**k them up. Elephant and the trainer ordeal. I knew that eventually I’d return to Bolton and have to attend yet another school and sculpt a different character again, so I decided this time I would make a character I would bring back to the school I would attend in Bolton because I knew The physical world truly was where the leaders stood out. At this time I was also playing AA hockey with the kids still in Bolton. It was funny how I could play two different people upon meeting with two polar reality groups. The Toronto group being a little harder. Going to school there, I met one kid named Johnny, his live truly was a situation no child could wish for, he lived in a house literally the size of a shack and his mother was seeing three different men on the side while he never even met his father, living with an abusive step father that was an alcoholic. I didn’t become friends with that kid because I felt sympathy because I knew his life could get better, but that still wasn’t why, I became friends and hung out with that kid because he never judged a soul, he saw me and wanted to be friends with me, he was the kid in class who was always yelling out loud and shouting random things, one of the so-called adhd kids, but none of them knew that he just had a great imagination and had he been given a better circumstance or if he discovered his talent in life to this day, he’d be a billionaire with his imaginatiuon, since I haven’t heard from since he moved out of that house, when we used to ring doorbells. I’ve seen a lot of ignorance towards the people we meet in our lives, because of some fear of abusing our fake so called ego. At this school I was exposed to real bullying so I stepped up to the plate, I played tackle soccer with the grade sixes to which I was one of the toughest, except for some black boy who I thought was cool and wanted to be friends with but because his older brother didn’t like my older brother who was in grade seven at the time. Devante was his name. “My grandfather’s name is Dante, it’s kind of similar man.” “tssssssss (kissing teeth noise) do i no u cuh, u steppin outta line nd imma knock yo block head off.” “Oh, you want to fight?” (puts me in headlock, boy that escalated quickly) I used to wrestle with my cousins so I knew block out pain and patience is the key, just think and devise a plan. Put my hand on his face, pushed in his eyes and put his a*s down. Respect gained 1000 points. I had tears in my eyes because I couldn’t breathe for so long. That day they knew I wasn’t to be fucked with at that school and the kids my age bought my entire scheme of character. Remember through all of this I never wanted people to get hurt, I just wanted to be friends with people but some either hated me for first judgements and never really decided to hear me out or knew that I was really a sincere friendly person. There was a lot of family hard ships with fights and such that year, but like Moses I always had my arms up for victory because I knew optimism is the cure to lost hope. We made it through that time and entered our new journey, which was our new home. July 5^th we were handed the keys and July 25^th we were moved in. July 27^th was my birthday and that summer was a the blackout that took away all power from the area surrounding the Niagara Falls power grid. As you can tell this was probably the topic of discussion on the first day of grade five of  “What did you do this summer?” “Well there was a blackout and......” the obvious answers.  So here I was first class and it was a grade 5/6 split. Immediately I was with the older kids, so it was easy for me to stand out and befriend them. I had a way of not becoming friends with kids in the other class to make them envious of our class that we were the better/smarter class in a way, and it played off so well all the time because I always managed to be in the class with less trouble makers and more intelligent students, call it a feeling of planned or not it was a nice outcome to help the ease of my life. I knew that being around the people that rub off good habits on you was the right thing to do. For example this is my first writing ever. I’ve never written on the accord of myself in which I have to use somewhat good grammar, or sentence flow. You can be the judge I just read what teachers had to say about it and I always decided that if there would come a time to write, I would just start writing. Why would I need to read someone else’s story first to tell my own. Just the other day whether my father was attempting to put me down or boost me to another relative, he said “My son was the kind of kid that would play with the box, rather than the toy.” So movie like I turned my head whilst in conversation with a cousin and said  “That’s because someone else’s idea came in the box. The box itself is where I made my ideas.” I didn’t think much of it, but my dad’s long lost Italian cousin certainly did. And Just so you know if you’ve read this far, my middle name is Gilles because his favourite French-Canadian legend Ferrari racer, Gilles Villeneuve was number 27 and the day I was born a Ferrari F40 passed by him on the way to the hospital which I think he thought was a sign that on July 27^th maybe my son will one day drive a Ferrari F40 before he dies. What a great thing to accomplish in life... I’m not saying I don’t want one either, because I really do. I have this whole schemed out plan of how I’ll retire my dad.

> I’ll get rich somehow and one day come home as if I was out at school

>I’ll take him out for a day of golf

>in his car.

>I’ll drive.

>Smash his car.

>Get the flatbed to pick us up.

>Takes us to brand new house with Ferrari California, Alfa-Romeo Alfetta GTV, and a Plymouth Hemi-Cuda in barn garage with tools, and hoists.

So here I am in my new class and immediately I see kids from my original school, I decided to become friends with them right away because it would allow me to show on the social spectrum that I was already a “known” person... I decided to take a break and go see my grandfather as I was writing this I felt in me the love for him that he deserves. Today is a Sunday so I figured why not give him a visit. It’s now 2:37pm and I decided to charge my laptop, pack my bong, my pipe, some papes, a quarter of green I got off my brothers dealer. He’s a cool guy; Polish been in the country for like five years, calls me whenever he’s got the good. Head back to the spot overlooking the cliff but the sun was overtop in a way that I couldn’t see the screen of my laptop. So I decided to walk farther into the forest towards the edge of the river were a beaver built a damn. I made a bench out of two fallen trees and I’m sitting on it outlooking the forest. Sometimes while in school, or amidst a traffic jam, I’d find my soul crying out to let my senses run wild. To let fear of something real back into my life. When you’re here in the forest and all you can hear is noises and some so unfamiliar in contrast to the electric, motorized, radio, music, noise pollution we hear all day. It lets you remember you’re human and not a god. That in the greatest success in life is living and that none of us escape the inevitable death. I find that the tragedy of human kind is the Sunday effect. We want to do what we feel but we’re afraid to do it because of the future. We’re afraid of the responsibilities we take on because we know it takes away from our well-being and leisure. The idea of stress and anxiety. We need to understand that we are living and that life isn’t a memory for an afterlife. So today I woke up at 6:30 to give you all my mental effort, whoever you are reading this. Tomorrow I wake up at 5:27 to get ready for work, and I won’t be able to enjoy the three hours of leisure time after work because I go to sleep at 10 so I won’t damage my body. Grade five/six split was an adventure because in that class I met a very interesting individual that was my teacher. I would love to say her name  but I fear it’s not my business to give information. She was a very spiritual person, she wore a key around her neck, was barefoot everyday and wore dresses all the time. Always the usual green or blue. We had two rare frogs, and two snails. The snails’ lungs like came out of them and floated to the surface of the tank, yeah they died. S**t happens. This teacher knew we didn’t do homework, she would gather us in a circle to take up homework and we would hand each other’s work with nothing on the paper and pretend to check mark everything. We got A+’s all the time. We even had to write a poem so I decided to that I would be the kid to make the teacher love me, I wrote a poem called; Spirit of a Snowflake. Which in reality was a very philosophical concept masked as a beautiful metaphor. Not bad for grade five. She said she would try to get it published but I said that I just wrote it for fun. Stupid me got myself a role as Jesus in her school play. Yay the supposed to be catholic kid, but secretly atheist kid is Jesus in a play. It was a play were I walked around the stage reaching out to all these like supposedly bullied kids, they were really just lying down all over the stage, and I did something pretty awesome. I fake cried; it won their hearts, the fans cheered. Yay I look like a weak b***h. She was a good person and if I learned from her realistically it would be that the tortoise always wins the race because there was no race to be had; home is where you rest your head. That year I told my teacher it was as if I had awaken from a dream. Grade six was a teacher who got me back on track, and since I knew most of the curriculum from the previous year I didn’t have a hard time regaining a harder work ethic. I remember I was too lazy to make complete sentences, I would just leave the answer and that’s when I truly decided to like science more. Science was lazy as was the same with math, it was just answers. In Grade six I came across a different group again this time with a new kid from an area called Brampton. For some reason we knew we were alike with polar characteristics, he was more of a trouble maker, and I the goody two shoes. The other kids didn’t like me because of what they had heard about my brother so they set us to fight each other. I going in knew I would win this fight, n... A huge doe just came within fifteen feet of me, I went to pull for my phone it looked at me, made a loud noise with its nose as if it was clearing them to prepare to run and be able to breathe. It jolted away and I’ll look in a bit if it is still around or if I can get some pictures. Today I said is going to be a special day today because I want it to be, and I’m going to give the story of an insignificant no one to whoever may one day read this to show them just living is enough. Today when I drove to my grandfather’s house I took the route that brought me the most memories, and along that route I saw all of the things I wanted to see, I saw Ferraris, Bentleys, Porsches, Lamborghinis, Maseratis, even an Alfa Romeo, as I was crossing the intersection of highway 27 and steeles, a street my dad grew up near, While listening to a song thinking about 27 earlier in that day, I saw my dad pass by me in his little yellow Mazda protégé 5 hatchback. I don’t believe in destiny and signs and as I passed signal hill drive I said to myself, “life is beautiful when things just happen for no apparent reason.” Unfortunately when I got to my nonno (Italian  for grandfather) Dante’s house, he wasn’t there, so I stayed for a bit ate some cookies and decided to come back to grab my laptop and get back to writing. Along the way I took a road where I remembered that I took with a person who will come into my story and I stopped because a doe was about to run by. The forest I’m in resides next to that road. Just the thought that the big mother sized doe I just saw is that same one would give me the satisfaction of a beautiful event. Natures art, fills in the everyday void that some choose to ignore. Back to the fight; winning the fight was not my goal, winning a friend truly was. He gave me a bleeding nose but I held him down and front of everybody “b***h-slapped” him, the police showed up and we left but, I walked home with him and said “can we be friends now?” We shook hands and to this day we’re planning on coming out with a rap album very, very soon, so stay tuned, me and Gill-T are from G-P and we’re far from innocent, far from a goon, we weren’t born next to a silver spoon, and this take-over is like a death drowning 10,000 feet beneath the sea, with a tube to breathe and boots made from concrete around your feet, you’ll live to hear your ears burst and your eyes fall out of their cavity. Grade seven came along and this is the year puberty hit the majority of the kids, the Mexican moustaches appeared and kids started smelling really bad from lack of hygiene. I was one of those kids, still untamed to the whole human body thing. I lived life like an ongoing adventure and I had to learn there were responsibilities with living around. I proposed the argument at the dinner table, where we would always eat. That perhaps deodorant and cologne are just mock smells of what really used to me natural smells, but since they’re appealing to the sense of smell they can attract attention. Which is like the initial ice breaker. To which I got, “Go take a shower, you’re disgusting, what the f**k is wrong with you?” gee I thought it was clever thought. Remind me to never talk again. Ahh grade seven the year I met a kid who thought he was larger than life and a kid who was sincere, trusting, wanted to have sex with every girl, 5’5 Italian soccer player who was really good. The funny thing is, All three of us were exactly the same, good at what we did except one of us acted like he was the s**t because he was from Toronto. Ah the beautiful ego, “bro I grew up beside the bloods man, in rexdale, I got suspended in grade one for calling a black kid  n****r.” “I was always amused with what people attempted to prove to you who they are with bringing up the fact that since you know how to live in an area that is different this makes you a different kind of person and that you’re not just human. We had a very young teacher that we all used to bother because we were all horny kids that wanted to be the off chance the 13 year old that bangs the teacher. Our imaginations haven’t changed much I assure you. It’s now striking 4:00pm and I ‘m lying down on the side of a cedar pine bedded hill with my knees up and my backpack behind me head. This day has been sunny and beautiful since the hour I woke up. Grade seven was the year I saw media start to influence kids, they were watching movies and starting to listen to music and shaping themselves to who they felt they were. I met a girl the year before in grade six who was kind of a victim of being good-looking, all the other girls hated her, but she had a Jenny type situation in Forrest Gump, she did all the wrong things but attempted to be innocent. She would flaunt herself, than act like the victim to all the other girls who hadn’t matured yet when they would gossip about her. She was a first generation Canadian who also could speak Italian, I learned quite a bit from her and we stayed friends throughout highschool until we faded away. Grade eight, the year I stood up and taught the math class because my teacher was taking too long. It’s funny because in elementary school I decided to be one of those kids who would make a name of being smart amongst the other kids in town at different schools. All of the school eventually would merge into one school. Robert. F. Hall Catholic secondary school. A day would not be able to sum up all of my high school experience so I’ll stick to those story like moments that matter more. In high school it was a time where the physical nature of kids was only to the more extremist kids. The ones who couldn’t let their egos take a hit. It was ironic because I really did hate fighting my entire life because I knew it didn’t have any meaning, but for some reason though it was clever to portray fighting movies to encourage kids to watch people fight each other and knock each other’s brain loose.  I’m not knocking on it either as I’m neutral because I’m a sinner like any human. The neutral hypocrite, but I don’t go looking for trouble ever. In high school it was the time I began to think about spirituality and what it meant to me. I was a kid who was both a man of common sense and faith but, really questioned my faith more than my common sense. In grade nine I had a religion teacher a man who had faced death three times, lost his sense of smell, converted from catholic to Buddhist, than back to catholic. I would assume to get a job as a catholic school teacher. But the man taught in a way no other religion teacher did, he made you memorize what he taught rather than have you read into it. It was awesome because it fully made you read the bible as more of a textbook of words to memorize than something to understand like faith. The ironic thing was he had a way of coming off extremely faithful when I knew he was just a man doing his job. That man from what I heard from other people was crazy, but to me we shake hands every time I get the opportunity to see him. We say the classic Mr. So and so and “hello there Mr. Gravina, how are you doing on this fine day?” to which I will always reply “Excellent sir.” Grade nine was the year characters started to show and people tried to make names for themselves amongst a population of 2000 from all the neighbouring areas, I blended in well as I had a way of befriending every different crowd and I learned something then, people will be your friend as long as you be their friend to. Just don’t lose their trust. Throughout high school I played hockey and was classified as a hockey bro that associated with the popular hated group of the school, this started because in grade nine and ten I was playing AAA hockey with all the other kids that went to our school. So you know it was a constant circle of s**t talking. We were all guilty and we knew it, it’s funny because until this day it continues to happen and I think it’s to the point they talk about things that happened three years ago in high school. I decided that being friends on both sides of the coin would be a fun way to live out the years because truthfully I was only a victim of behind my back bullying, but I watched fights happen over the dumbest arguments every single day. Grade ten was the so called OHL draft year and by that time because I was only playing hockey for the hell of it I didn’t ever take the effort to develop myself because I didn’t want to pursue hockey. The hatred amongst ethnicity was disgusting, the behaviour towards other people was degrading, and the kids were all acting like goof ball hockey coaches that were doing it because they were failures themselves making money from fifteen year olds. I heard of a coach who got a brand new Mercedes benz. But anyway after grade ten I quit hockey and the group of hockey friends decided to making fun of me over social networks, laughing at me, and making fun of me at all their parties and to all my friends. Through it all I never cared because one time I walked up behind the source of the party in the hallway and said “Would you like to show me how tough you are when you’re not in mommy’s house or protected by your friends?” he walked faster, and one day invited me to a party again. Problem solved. Those two friends I met back in elementary school, I’ll mention the one who is still my best friend Francesco, we never hung out during the day at school, instead we’d hang out after. We didn’t have the same groups of friends, but when we would hang out with each other’s groups we would get along so well. The other friend I won’t mention his name joined that group that made fun of me. In grade eleven, For the rest of high school I spent more time acquiring more friends, and meeting more faces, so this way if I decided to go to university there would be a chance I’d have friends at it. I Was lazy however and ended up going back for a victory lap. The victory lap year; I learned that year about myself, when  everyone you know is gone and you feel like a real failure. You see people supposedly progressing in their life. All I has was guidance counsellors saying for me to not come back because I can’t get into university and teachers who would treat you like a child. I decided I would put in enough effort, and by effort I mean listening a little more in class. It’s actually really funny because I set out to get accepted to the University of Guelph, and by the deadline I had only been accepted to a University in the heart of Toronto called Ryerson. So I, not taking no for an answer wrote an email with a very detailed how I would love to go there and I had to work a lot this year, and how I got 7% over the required average. Needless to say I got accepted. So then I set forth and worked for the summer at a place called The Ontario food terminal, in other words a place of heavy lifting from 3am until 2pm most days. I got to school and suddenly it felt like I was in summer camp, we were playing name games, learning dances and cheers, and it was a complete contradiction to my character, it’s not that I was to cool, it’s just I never made a big deal really about anything. So I decided I would attempt to try out the school spirit thing. Bought the $80 sweaters and all the textbooks, was super studious, talking to professors lining up research jobs, and then I was like s**t. I don’t know what f*****g job I want, and this was the time I started smoking pot. Suddenly everybody started to laugh at me, call me a stoner every single timer I’d see them, and I couldn’t understand why I went from  first semester the kid they were calling Professor Dan to a crazy stoner. I never once pointed out the alcoholic nature of them drinking every chance they could get. Whereas alcohol takes away your state of consciousness it also brings out aggressive behaviour, to which I saw a lot of crazy I could never expose type of s**t going on. With marijuana you gain consciousness and you stop being a jackass and becoming a real boy like Pinocchio. I ended up proving a lot of people wrong, and I decided to advertise over social media in my hometown while I was at school that I was smoking, and they all think I’ve changed and become a failure because I even told them I’m considering starting an internet business and all the products that will come if you help me fund them, so I’m not asking much, share me or have your voice heard. Your voice and mine makes two, and two is always better than one.Today I set off to tell the world about my story and how it doesn’t differ much from whoever you are out there reading this. My goal is to become an entrepreneur and give people something they can find enjoyment out of and that’s why I’m talking today to give you a friend you’ve never met, to show that in this world we are all good people behind closed doors, or the public lines. We’re all faces with individual stories. Like the breakfast club I want to bring people together and enjoy each other’s company. I have an idea for a new social media, new products for weed paraphernalia, music, Youtube videos that take you to work with me and show you what it’s like in my shoes, as well as when we hangout on the trails, or hanging out at someones place, parties, and much more. I want to give people something new. I woke up with a dream rather than having one while I slept. I woke up and decided that like Martin Luther King, I would one day be a contributor to safer communities for kids from bullying and marijuana legalization. The view on it has put kids in really bad places. When I smoke, I compare it to the satisfaction of having a great time. Amongst having a great time I start to think a lot more. The drawings that explain being high are incorrect, When you are high you see the exact same 3D world and if anything take more precaution towards the safety of yourself. The other day while high, I looked at a puddle saw water drops falling in it and extrapolated to theories. The particle-wave theory states that everything essentially to the last divisible particle is a wave. That led me to think well photons of light hitting both your eyes gives a field of depth my the areas of wave propagation would be your natural blind spot, like your nose. I also figured the 3D world is like a flat plane that when given energy (rain drop) creates a wave. That turns the 2D surface of the water like a 3D surface. I mean it’s nothing at in the spectrum of anything and they’re probably wrong but I don’t see the average non-smoker looking at beautiful landscapes and letting their mind run wild anymore either. With no offence to the large population of non-smokers that do. It’s a bias based on everywhere I’ve gone in my life, Which is North America. I’d like to talk about what the illegality of weed does to those who don’t smoke, and those that do, as obviously I have lived on both sides of the fence. The smoking side. We live in fear everytime we smoke. I go to a forest to walk through it and enjoy it. I smoke and then I continue to do the same thing. Walk through the forest. See when you smoke it’s like it resets the sensation of the whole world. Things feel new, the feeling of dopamine. That this is good and that this is positive action. However one thing I’ve learned about the affects of dopamine is that it’s like it brings out your conscience and you only feel comfortable with the things that are safe. In university it is a common tradition to see either the polar opposites, which is alcoholics or pot-heads, or the mixers. I started as nothing and now I guess I would be labelled stoner. The stoner type is the type that would rather devote two hours to enjoying each other’s company when it can be had. The finer things in life like our blessings or good circumstances. The everybody else that doesn’t smoke except for the every once in a while smokers have the assumption that you are a failure, on the drugs, a bad individual, a hippie, a hipster, lazy, no �"good, worthless, need to get away from your problems weak individual. I smoke weed so I can be like a kid again, experiencing life like it’s the first time. So if you enjoyed this, just wait ‘till you see what I have next and I’m just starting. Share me if you would, share my story, get people involved, message the likes of people such as celebrities, message Ellen, Drake, Justin Bieber, Oprah, we were all victims of classifications at some time, let’s legalize weed and free kids and adults from bullying. So dad “Why is the sky blue?” It is now currently 5:52, and this is a day I dedicated to you, whoever you may be, of whatever creed, colour, or ethnicity. The sun lights up the ground more at this time and it feels like the air and tress glow rather than up in the sky.

Instagram: dangravina

Twitter: @gravinadan

Coming soon youtube: Daniele Gravina.