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In ten years. I want to be older, wiser hopefully. I’d want to be raising hell, making a difference and doing things I’d never imagine myself doing. I want to celebrate this awesome life, mourn its shortness, make things work and make them work better. I want to be in the midst of things and not inherit the world.
In ten year I’ll know better, in ten years I’ll be as sentimental as ever, in ten years, my music tastes would not have changed, in ten years I’ll be raging and roaring and trying my best to make the most.
You stand there with your self-righteous smirk, as if the world owed you everything. Take the first chance to ruin the show, work everything to your advantage, say all the wrong things at all the wrong time like you have every right in the world to. Shit happens, yeah, but wake up darling, it happens even to the best of us, so take it in your stride. So if you’re figuring that in your circle of friends, nothing else in the world matters, boy have I news for you. This place’s bigger than you think.
Without a cause? Ostensibly, yes.
Back down across the phone line, I wish I was somewhere else and not in the circumstance I was in. Sorry ‘bout that.
I can be a prick at times. When I’m off, not quite myself (or so I like to think), I get pissed easily, do stupid things, say stupid stuff, shoot off my mouth and not realizing that I’m being an idiot. Never really stop to think, get a little self absorbed, and realize afterwards that I was being downright stupid.
For all the virtues that I like to think I have, I’m not much of a preacher.
On the bus today after a brief conversation lasting five stops. And it’s true, I guess, that our next big things always fill us with that nervous anticipation of something new, something mysterious, something unfamiliar and promising nonetheless. And when the moment comes for you to step past those gates to a brand new experience, all the initial fears and hesitation doesn’t matter anymore – you’re here, so plunge in and enjoy the ride. Get used to things more easily than you'd have ever thought, mix around with all the new people, lose some and gain some. It’s one helluva ride.
And it’s been about a year since we started out. Seeing fresh faces, eager, excited, enthusiastic, I realize how much I’m going to miss this. So many long days and longer nights, match supports, banners painted, proposals and meetings. So many conversations shared, rides hitched home, lunches, dinners and hours spent working together.
Two days ago it was our turn to wheel out the results, consider the looks of anticipation, the euphoria, the disappointment, the laughter and the tears. Mixed feelings all day long and the day after, wondering if they’ll manage this year. But I’m sure they’ll do fine.
I want to search the skies like we used to, find some sort of meaning in staring up at the darkness, inky and intimidating, under the quiet light of the stars. Or maybe lie on our backs, staring up at the blue on a quiet day, waiting for the airplanes to fly by and leave behind their fluffy tails, or looking for shapes in the cloud. We traced our names in the sky, searched for meaning in the way the light crashed down from the sky.
Days used to slip away with such ease, and it didn’t matter so much.
About an hour ago I stuck a post-it with a chemical diagram that showed the difference between H
on my wall. Why I even bothered to look up the answer to a question posed during Thursday’s chemistry lecture is beyond me. And the only reason it’s up on the wall is because there’s no space on the table to stick it, and I needed the next sheet in the pad to scribble down the details for the leadership week (coming up in two weeks) poster I have to do. It isn’t extremely exciting, but heck, it’s a life.
Easter Sunday, woke up late to an endless blue sky. I felt good, like I haven’t in a long while. The sheets were washed yesterday and still smelt faintly of bleach and detergent and hours spent drying in the sun. It was warm and cosy and I didn’t feel like leaving my bed for the longest time, I just looked out of the window at the wide, wide sky.
I was telling Anna the other day that life is pretty good if you know where to look. I guess it helps if you know where not to look as well.
I’m tired today, a good, honest kind of tired. The sort you feel after a job well done – worn out but happy. No doubt that this entire month spells a whole lot of late nights and hoarse voices, but I’m glad there’s something else to keep me occupied other than the normal stuff.
So today wrapped off in school with only a few twenty-sixths hanging around in the council room. Life is pretty much speeding up and slowing down so that I’m not really sure what’s going on anymore, but it still gets awesome enough to make me smile sometimes.
Your words speak for you more loudly than you think. It says a lot when you say all the wrong things at all the wrong times. Take a hint, when two or more people ask you to shut up around the same times is probably a good measure of when to shut that trap. I know it’s difficult to face the fact that your comments aren’t as welcome as you’d like them to be – but come on, we’ve all been there, and you’re big enough to swallow your pride when things call for it. Sorry to deflate your ego, pal.
I tidied up my council cubbyhole today - these are the things I found:
1. Chemistry TYS which I haven’t touched in ages
2. Grey file with my guitar scores
3. Blue ring file with Christian song chords
4. Thin yellow file with other random chords
5. White Quiksilver jacket on indefinite loan from Pear
6. Damien Rice’s 9 with a blue post-it on it
7. A receipt for $20 for two CommzD stamps
8. Around eleven DVD-Rs
9. Scrap paper
10. School badge
11. School tie
12. Two random shirts (Green L’audeamus and BB House)
13. One Pfizer towel (Hmm)
Sing me a song of sixpence. I hope I’m dreaming away this afternoon well enough. Too many hang-ups over the past few weeks, I’m tired of living in the real for a while. Take a holiday somewhere, find myself in the pages of whatever I’m trying to lose myself in this time. I’m tired, worn out from all the things I have to do that I don’t want to.
This day’s taking too long to go by. I need some time to myself and to my dreams. Ignore the big things that usually make a difference and go my way.
You got it going for you. Spent half your life chaining yourself to stuff, pamphleteering and petitioning. Your protests are too silent when peaceful, too noisy when loud. Standing for all the big things (“no cause too unworthy!”), it worries me sometimes that it only takes so little to push you over. I’ll forgive you for wanting to make a difference, but when anyone takes a look at you, it’s obvious that this is all for a show that you don’t even know you’re putting on.
Your repository of rights for you to defend is going to go wrong someday.
It’s a huge thing to have someone look up to you. I’m feeling it even more so now that the year’s more than a quarter-way through. Seniority isn’t that easy a thing to handle, and when you’re consistently being watched by people younger, less experienced than you, it’s uncomfortable sometimes. And it’s amazing how inspiring juniors get – the way the pull through the toughest of things, the way their little actions touch you, the way they’re always so enthusiastic.
Though I don’t say it most of the time, I’m bloody proud of the people I lead (or think I do).
Backs down, staring at the early morning sky speckled with clouds. Deep breaths, sweat, sighs of relief, cheers and words of encouragement amid all the frustration. Switched places, on another side, supporting roles, and somehow in the midst of the action once again. Word by word, sentence by sentence, stumbling, falling short, trying again and again until you guys get it right together.
Watching the sun rise to the east, wondering what it’s like to go, what it’s like to be a spark, what it’s like to leave a flame burning. Look around for another and try to fade away.
People moving in, moving out – and it is strange what it’s like leaving home. New faces are always welcome, but I’ll miss the usual gang, the usual chatter, and the usual noise that I’ve just gotten myself used to. It’s like those mornings I’d come when it was still dark and would watch the sky light up from the east, and the nights spent outside, waiting, studying, painting, talking, eating and whiling our time away. It’s been one amazing year, and it’s hard to believe it went by so quickly without us even noticing. What’s it really like, leaving home?
Fielding questions but not answering them properly, half the class half asleep, disinterested, wondering what on earth is being written on the board. Can’t get your drift even after you repeat it twice, too many mixed metaphors get on our nerves, too many examples just makes what you’re trying to say even more confusing. Heads on the table, half-hearted attempts in writing something down or deciphering what you’ve just said. Today the fluorescent’s not strong enough to keep us from our drowsy stupor.
Half the day’s gone, another half to go.
Small wonder we think our education’s almost completely useless.
The rain outside and the persistent call of my alarm clock (affectionately known as “dad”) tells me there’s no time for another five minutes more. Outside it’s cold, wet and dramatically noisy, and the weather’s shouting at me to finally get my lazy ass out of bed. The blinding fluorescent greets a bleary-eyed me as I try to get myself ready to face another day. Doubtless, I’ll be watching the clock all day long.
I get jolted to my senses by something between the clap of thunder at 6:14 and the acid of this morning’s orange juice on my tongue.
I know how you feel now when you tell me you need to get away. It’s the way you look at me when you mouth those final words - “shut up”. I know, I’m dense at times. Got the hint, and I have to admit it took me a while. I’m not as tactful as I wish I could be sometimes, and I say the wrong things too often, and I know what it’s like to spend sleepless nights staring up at the ceiling and wondering what compelled me…
My lesson today.
These last two don’t come easy.
From time to time, we need those little things that make life bearable. Our cups of coffee in the morning to make sure we last through the day, our inane conversations with our closest friends, our little comforts in finishing a tub of ice cream. Tucked safely in the corners outside our routines, they make life worth living, or, in the least, make living life a little easier. They give us space to breathe, buy us time to stare at the ceiling on long nights and, even if only for a while, make the world seem that small bit better.
I haven’t felt like fighting in a long while. Lately, life has been good to me and I can’t say I’m not pleased, but I feel as if I’m missing out. I need to ignite that fire of what righteous indignation is left in me to make sure I don’t fizzle out without even knowing.
I want to have so many things to do that I don’t know where to start.
I want things to be different everyday, I want some action, some change.
I want life to be so much more than it is now.
I need a breakthrough.
Maybe we’ll make some progress this time, we’ve shook ourselves up enough to sit up and think for a moment. Hope that perhaps for once things will make a difference, allow for some soul-searching, finally set things right.
Objectively, we are this much different from each other. Taking a look from our eyes, you can add a thousand miles in between.
Classes resume Monday. Life goes on, and we hang in there and wait for the memories to fade.
Twenty-four hours. One week. Two weeks. A month. Three months. A year. Then again, maybe more. How long does it take?
I remember the euphoria we were feeling just around this time last year. Voices still a little hoarse from all the screaming and cheering, tired from the long nights and a little delirious from the heady smell of paint. We were still enthusiastic, fresh, learning the ropes and dying to be part of something way larger than ourselves.
This year I’m being ushered along, sitting in the sidelines wondering how everything went by so quickly. Jaded maybe, but I’ve had my share and I’m proud of it. I’ll let the regrets trail along and hope they don’t slow me down.
Right now all the numbers add up wrongly.
A week later we’ll be saying that it doesn’t matter.
After all, it’s the same job, just different people.
A month or two will solve this.
Actually, it won’t.
A decade down we’ll still remember, because it was so frickin’ awesome we can’t get it out of our heads.
Truthfully, you do feel some measure of sadness, right?
As much as you’ll like to pretend you don’t care.
(I know, even if I’ve only known you for a year.)
I’ll miss this.
And I know you will.
So it’s over.
Funny how we spend so much time worrying and wondering how things will turn out. Even for all the things we’ve gone through and the soul-searching to do, we still find it hard to come to terms with the fact that things are going to be alright. Life might not be all that good presently, but things work out, hope, mercifully, springs eternal – and, trust me, things will work themselves out, somehow turn out fine.
Things come, things go, you do well, you screw up. Life goes on, regardless. You got to learn to live with it.
Another trophy to add to your shelf, another testament to what you got without telling people how you got it. You add in the details, you embellish it or play it down. People stare, some people stare longer, others hardly give it glance. It may be your life’s work, but if you’re going to let the world know, you’re gonna have to let some flak in. They all come along in the same package, the woahs, the what-the-hells and the so-whats. And I’m guessing you hate that last demographic the most.
Some people don’t give a damn.
Live with it.
I’m bloody tired, hoarse, and this close to be demented. But I haven’t felt this excited in ages. Up in the spectators’ stand cheering my heart out for my school. The sparring down on the courts coupled by the nerve-wrecking tensions between the supporters from both sides made that small sports hall seem more surreal.
The moment came after a bad return. Breaths held, hearts beating frantically. A flip on the scoreboard announced the final score. We could’ve believe that we won by a mere two points after what seemed like eternity. I felt immensely proud if how we fought.
Maybe it wouldn’t matter once I get myself out of this fix, disentangle myself from where I stop between the lines, and sketch myself the boundaries within which I cannot work. It’s been great, but I want to go on (after I wait a while to let the realization sink in). Somewhere further in the future and down whatever road I’ll choose, I hope I’ll make a difference or at least leave some sort of legacy. Change the world (or something) even if it’s only one person at a time.
So long, I guess, and thanks (for all the fish).
I miss a lot of chances, screw up quite a bit, and have my share of character flaws. I’m trying to change, to be that proverbial better man they say everyone can be. It’s not easy, so don’t you sit there and mock me. Maybe if you overlook my character flaws, I’d overlook yours. Insulated from the world, and always in the back row, it not difficult to watch it go by and laugh. Don’t you come along telling me it doesn’t matter. You know bloody well that it does.
Here I am trying, and that should be good enough.
Today we finally slow down, relinquish our positions, take a deep breath and hope for the best. After a year, our turn’s finally up. Over the next month or two, we’ll settle whatever unfinished business we have left, desperately wishing it wouldn’t end so quickly, hoping that everything will be in safe hands once we let go.
Makes me wonder what I would have done without this opportunity. What would life had been, without all the work that made it worth it, all the late nights and all the great people I’ve had the honour of sharing this experience with.
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