Fray

run, running away.

School’s back. And now there’s no hiding – it’s going to be 10 straight weeks of work in full swing.

Walking past the canteen this morning, I realised: shit, the same worries are back. Things are definitely better than a few weeks ago, but I still haven’t really settled down properly yet. The work is especially daunting. Last term I knew that I could hide when holidays came. But now, they’re over and I just have to face that barrage of work. It’s not that I absolutely don’t want to – I mean floorball season and jazz concert are exciting stuff. But sometimes I’m still dreaming that the work isn’t really starting and that it’s perfectly fine to not do my work. I guess the fairytale of the past 3 to 5 months is taking its toll.

I know that argh I have to do my work and I have to accept it. But argh I don’t want to either!

17, growing up.

First of all, of course, thank you so much for all the wishes, cards, letters and presents. They really, really made my day. Spending my birthday with 4k again was just sweet. Last year, I was surprised because it was the first time I ever had such an awesome birthday. This year, I’m just really glad for it. Thank you so much guys.

I was just looking through all the cards I received the past 17 years, from when I was little till now. And I guess I never really appreciated the intention that came with those cards. At 17, I really do feel like I’m growing up and maturing. I find a lot more value in “birthdays” and probably appreciate it a lot more than I have ever done. All the presents, cards and letters really gave me more confidence in who I am as a person. Although, it is not always the best indicator, what happens on your birthday can show how much you’ve impacted the people around you. And for me it really heartens me to know how much I’ve impacted somebody, or anybody at all.

I think not many people think of such things on their birthdays, but it was a good time to take stock of my life. And I realised it’s such a two-way thing. When your birthday comes, it’ll be my turn to thank you for having made a difference to me. I guess that’s how we manage to get past tough times isn’t it?

17 – lots of worries, lots of questions.

I just can’t figure why all things come to an end,
Why they fade off into ‘nothing’.

i sense something going astray..

ticking with the clock

Unbelievably, the holidays are here. Just as school is about to get into full gear, we have a break. We’re back in our “fantasies”.

Floorball and Jazz__
After training last saturday and jazz camp, I think I’ve made the right choice in not quitting either for council. Getting so much satisfaction from both CCAs so far has just been awesome. But I know that this is only the start, and there’s still a long way to go. It’ll take a lot of discipline and self-motivation to keep up the standard I’ve already set for myself. But I know I want to do it, and I will!

10S05A__
After all the initial bits of disappointment, I think my class is coming together. Although “class camp” was rather uneventful, I think it still did fulfill it’s purpose. The sharing session made all the difference for me. It’s so heartwarming knowing that there is so much more to a person than you initially thought and that there’s a huge potential for you to grow. As a class, we’ve definitely grown closer together, although I know there’re still alot of barriers for us to break.

This week’s break is hardly a break. There’s so much I know I need to do because the next term will be hell for me. There’s floorball season and then jazz concert as well as ISLE and op smile. I’m expecting it already and I know I’ll be cursing when it’s here. But I guess it is something that I want to embark on so I’ll just live through it as happily as I can.

I don’t want to even start thinking about how jc life is turning out to be. I just can’t ‘hold it firm’ still. I don’t know how to describe the gush of emotions I get thinking about the paths my friends are taking, about the life i’m living. It’s just overwhelming. Sometimes, I wish I could pull all of us together again.

Chaining the past to our tomorrow.

It is at this start of a fresh page in my life that I’m trying to define my own space in this new school environment. We’re all deciding, mostly for ourselves, how we want to spend the next two years. And though this period of choosing has been draining, my senior tells me that I’ve just got to believe that eventually, I’ll find the space I’m looking for to grow out from.

As much as I want to move forward, I want to keep the sweet times of my past. There are these moments which I find saddening to let go of. I know death is part of life, but I simply cannot (and perhaps, don’t want to) accept that after all that we’ve had, it eventually fades away and comes to nothing. But it is this stubborn want to still cling on to the times of yesterday that is holding me back, in big and small ways. I know, we can’t live life if we don’t move forward. But does that mean we don’t turn our heads behind? Do we and can we not hold any treasures from the past? And that’s the confusion that I know is facing most of us now.

Balance. I know the theoretical answer. “A double headed eagle, drawing strength from the past while looking forward”. But it is easier said than done. Right now, I just hope that miraculously, I will be able to string together the pieces from yesterday with those of today and tomorrow. School is falling into place, one at a time, bit by bit. All I hope for is that the right pieces of the puzzle will come together at the right places. But the stupidest thing of this whole issue has yet to come.

Eventually, school work will force me to click into place. The demands of this enviornment will force me to move on. And when I do, I’ll find that rhythm. If those that I wish for are beating along, then all is well. If they are not, then it is possible that they will evenutally fade, die out and come to nothing. And all that I’ve said above will merely be letters making up words. I do not want to forecast, but I know the possibility of that happening is high.

—

Prayer
Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer
utters itself. So, a woman will lift
her head from the sieve of her hands and stare
at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.

Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train.

Pray for us now. Grade I piano scales
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls
a child’s name as though they named their loss.

Darkness outside. Inside, the radio’s prayer -
Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre.

–Carol Ann Duffy