By Dean Shein

 

Goodbye to St Matthew’s Church.

 

Goodbye to St Matthew’s Church.

 

Goodbye to running up those ratty stairs.

 

Goodbye to swinging on those swingy swings.

 

Goodbye to Friday afternoon at Market House.

 

Goodbye to no natural sunshine.

 

Goodbye to the fridge filled with San Marino sandwiches.

 

Goodbye to the Pit.

 

Goodbye to Groundswell.

 

Goodbye to the old toilets.

 

Goodbye to the new toilets.

 

Goodbye to Dunbar.

 

Goodbye to the midpoint of McDonald’s and KFC.

 

Goodbye to the restaurant underneath.

 

Goodbye to the place of HUSH.

 

Goodbye to the African cultural centre. 

 

Goodbye to the two off-licences behind the school.

 

Goodbye to the Bagel shop.

 

Goodbye to the magnet of Pret.

 

Goodbye to punk rock.

 

Goodbye to magic.

 

Goodbye to atmosphere that can’t be beaten.

 

Goodbye to the spiritual high of a church.

 

Goodbye to the spiritual high of a Drum & Bass club.

 

Goodbye to the spiritual high of our school.

 

Goodbye to 8:30am zagging, when the world zigs.

 

Goodbye to late night lock ups. 

 

Goodbye to swims in the pond while covered in egg.

 

Goodbye to the Hygge café.

 

Goodbye to the British Heart foundation.

 

Goodbye to that afternoon noise.

 

Goodbye to the radio recording room.

 

Goodbye to skating on the wooden floor.

 

Goodbye to the library.

 

Goodbye to another brief in that space.

 

Goodbye to clean up time.

 

Goodbye to darkness.

 

Goodbye to greyness.

 

Goodbye to running around on the grass outside.

 

Goodbye to ‘When Everything Was New.’

 

Goodbye to challenging the brief.

 

Goodbye to not doing research. 

 

Goodbye to not missing scabs… (Maybe not.)

 

Goodbye to being bonkers for the sake of it… Nah fuck that.

 

Goodbye to Term 1.

 

Goodbye to Tedj’s video reflections.

 

Goodbye to fobs.

 

Goodbye to being a creature of habit.

 

Goodbye to Costa Coffee.

 

 

Hello to Costa Coffee.

 

Hello to a new leaf.

 

Hello to late February.

 

Hello to San Marino.

 

Hello to the Brixton Recreation Centre.

 

Hello to container records.

 

Hello to cinnamon and sugar Churros.

 

Hello to the best Jerk chicken under the stairs.

 

Hello to the final hurdle.

 

Hello to a step in the right direction.

 

Hello to still running late to school… But only today.

 

Hello to Funky Friday afternoon drinks.

 

Hello to masterclasses on the dance floor.

 

Hello to gentrification.

 

Hello to ‘Ship it’.

 

Hello to vintage clothes.

 

Hello to expensively groovy sushi.

 

Hello to a homely home.

 

Hello to wooden stairs.

 

Hello to ‘Russian smoking area’ fake grass.

 

Hello to natural sunlight. 

 

Hello to natural sunlight. (It’s a huge deal, ok.)

 

Hello to a code for the door.

 

Hello to cosiness. 

 

Hello to a little bit more proper.

 

Hello to something different. 

 

Hello to leather stalls in a garage.

 

Hello to Moroccan soup.

 

Hello to the Moroccan perfume man. 

 

Hello to Nando’s being closer.

 

Hello to Barnardo’s being closer.

 

Hello to Jungle music.

 

Hello to Tubular Bells.

 

Hello to no eating inside.

 

Hello to ‘Tea & Beats’ in the reception area. 

 

Hello to toilets that rock.

 

Hello to a desk with a fat wall and a fat window.

 

Hello to swanky stairs with cruddy desks.

 

Hello to sitting outside for mindfulness.

 

Hello to being nearer to Poundland.

 

Hello to being nearer to CeX.

 

Hello to a Japanese Knife shop.

 

Hello to stabbing the next 6 months.

 

Hello to the refreshing fresh air.

 

Hello to a fridge for the homeless with white baguettes.

 

Hello to a new perspective.

 

Hello to Pop Brixton.