Count down?
The day till the end of high school is getting closer and closer, the work load is getting heavier and heavier, and the exctiment of freedom is starting to get hold…what does this all mean? … A friend of mine Sarah, wrote the following, on her thoughts about the last few precious days of our high school life, and i would like to share it with you all..
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[Sunday, 6 August 2006 – 9:44PM]
an eighteenth of a century
One hundred.
Haha.
That’s funny, don’t you think?
What is?
The number one hundred.
‘100 school days left’ it said, on your site.
Suddenly, you feel as though you are experiencing tunnel vision. Or maybe Time got a bit carried away in Cosmos and is, as of the present, being sucked off by Black Hole.
Or maybe my dementia is progressing along nicely.
Divide your age by two.
You remember that far back, no?
(If not, you’ll just have to bear with my memories for the better half of the next five to ten minutes. Get comfy. Get food. Get laid – though I prefer you not downing that bottle of Viagra while you are reading this.)
Nine. It was my second year in Australia by then. But that’s not important; it is not why I’m making you read this. At the age of nine… I don’t remember much. Oh wait, I do now. I remember Miss Chapman. I remember Ruben. I remember not being able to string more than a few sentences together in English that barely made sense. This, I remember. An ice cream factory, a Coca Cola factory. I remember a beach, a certain piece of clear glass eroded by the waves to a fine smooth pebble. It’s now part of another landscape, decorating a different geography. I remember a seashell, given by a best friend, long gone. I remember a piece of drawing too, the first one I could imitate to near perfection, the first one I was proud of.
That’s also disappeared. To the place where bogey monsters hide.
That was my most memorable primary school year and possibly the best year of my life in Australia so far.
You see, back then the knowledge of numbers was limited. There was a largest number; we did have a number that completed our number line. One hundred, to our unexplored, naïve mind then, seemed a galaxy away – impossible, unreachable.
But now, with our words of ‘eternity’ and ‘forever’ and our Sums To Infinity (S∞) in marching capital letters, our mortality has never been that much clearer to our conscious, that much closer to our hearts.
Because now, there will only be one hundred more days before school finishes, only one hundred more sleeps before we finally close another chapter in our lives, only one hundred more dinners prepared by mummy before we are thrown into the workforce and our assumed independence. Before we say our goodbyes, send our farewells and adios to the people we have grown up with for the past five to twelve years.
One hundred more chances left to create memories before we sever our ties and bonds with those who have seen us cry, laugh, smile, scream, swear, embarrassed and shy but most importantly, acted as our support base and emotional punching bag and comforted us in our lowest moments. Those relationships that transcend the importance of time, that are precious because they created impressions on us through experiences rather than through minutes and seconds.
Maybe, in one hundred days, weeks, months after we have gone our separate ways, we will have forgotten the faces of those whom we shared a brief but deep connection with, those who knew what our biggest fear was, those who knew what made us tick. Maybe in one hundred hours post-graduation, the mental construction of those who knew what made us smile, what made our eyes light up will become blurry. Begin to fade.
Maybe, in one hundred days from our parting, we will forget the face of that one person who made us yearn and hope and hurt in a way not known to us before. Maybe then, we will receive the salvation that we had desperately sought after during our time with them.
Maybe.
Who knows. Maybe we will find someone to fill in the chemical imbalance in our heads in the time it takes us to forget that boy, that girl.
I guess the answers awaits us all at the end of the road in one hundred days’ time.
See you all there.
[Footnote: This was written awhile ago after coming to Andrew’s site on the day that his ‘number of days left to school’ counter said ‘100 days left’. At the time, it was written more for me (as seen in the first half of the entry) than for anyone else but after reading through it just now, I realised I wrote it subconsciously for you too – the people who I have seen five days a week, every week for the past five years. Yes, I know. Almost as much time as I spend with my family (or even less if you count the number of days I stay holed up in my dark, dank bedroom roaming over my physics and English lit notes). It’s no wonder I’m beginning to get sick of y’all!
Read it. Laugh at it. Masturbate to it. Whatever floats your boat. Hope it does something for you, whatever it is your preference.
Goodnight, my insomniac chums.]
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P.S, credited to hui..wanton is actually a real word…in english..werid.
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