One Last Chance

Us seniors’ last day of school is tomorrow, May 31st. Tomorrow will mark the end of slumbering through the day and of having to ask for permission to use the restroom. Tomorrow will mark our first day of freedom, if only for a little while for most of us, but at least we will be ourselves. True to who we are.

Tomorrow, the beast underneath all of us will be released. Finally a time and place to set free our true potentials. If you are thinking of something noble like finding a cure for cancer, I’ll tell you to forget it right now, because tomorrow we’ll be in the school parking lot. Armed with colorful water filled projectiles and shaving cream, we’ll fight each other battle royal style. We won’t stop until only one of us remains standing. Tomorrow our angers will get physical. Teachers and the administration be warned, you’ll be revenged upon for the four years of shit you have shoved down our throat. You’ll get pied in the face and have water balloons thrown at only the most uncomfortable place. Our level of anger toward you will be measured by the force we put behind the balloons and the amount of cream in the pies.

I’m certain, among all the joy and lighthearted pranks, tomorrow will also be a day of sorrow. There will be tears shed for close friends and awesome teachers as we bid farewell to each other. There will be many instances where we won’t be able to separate ourselves from our embracements, but in the end, as much as we don’t want to, we will have to let each other go. We might find ourselves separated far from each other after tomorrow, but no matter the distance of the separation, the strong bonds we had forged through four years of shared suffering and cruel jokes will stand the test of time. No one else in this world will understand you and me as much as we do each other, it will be childish and selfish of us to think and act otherwise.

Perhaps in the past four years I've done something stupid that had pushed you away from me. Perhaps in the past four years you've also done something stupid that had pushed me away from you, but I’m sure in the end, none of that will ever matter. You will forgive me as I will forgive you and certainly we will be best buddies again. This time it will be without the absurdity of an adolescent mind. A cookie shall never be again given the power to make or break our friendship. I promise.

In ten years when we meet again, I hope that you will have already have achieved your dreams. Maybe you want to be an astrophysicist, a doctor or perhaps even an evil billionaire. Whatever it is that you dreamt to have achieved, I sincerely hope that you would have it accomplished by then. In ten years when we have our class reunion, I would like to center our conversation around our success stories. About how you screw the other guy over. About how you came out of the pack fine and others not so lucky.

Anyhow, that is still in the distant future and today we still have unfinished business. Tomorrow we shall offer the one last embrace we owe each other. Tomorrow we shall shed the one last tear on each other’s shoulders. Tomorrow we shall give the one last “because we are friends, therefore I’ll slap you in the face” to each other. Because after tomorrow, we might not have the chance to do any of it again.

Class of 2013, I wish you guys all the best. You guys ROCK!

The End of the Road

When Robbie said to me last September that my final year of high school will be over before I know it, I was like “yea yea, I know exactly what you’re talking about”. Looking back on it, I realized how silly I must have been to think that I know what exactly what Robbie meant. It wasn't until messages like “honors night, yay!” or “when one door closes, another one opens :)” slowly fill up my Facebook feed when I finally realized the year is coming to a close. I was caught by complete surprise, but then I remember I had already been warned, I just didn't listen. I guess Robbie was correct when he said his comment was going to be dismissed as an old man’s ramblings. My apologies, it wasn't intentional.

Nevertheless, here I am, caught at the border between what my peers like to call freedom and prison. I myself would like to give them a slightly more realistic view but they would shoot back with surprise in their face and a “You are weird!”. From their expressions, I think what they mean is “fuck off, I don’t care”. Never mind that, I’m a firm believer that people should have the right to think for themselves. It will be their problem, not mine.

I've been told I’m a cynical person, but I would say that I’m realistic. Too realistic perhaps. I've never been part of the those who try so hard to receive a piece of paper recognizing their time wasted. Even in disapproval, I do envy how easily they can be possessed by genuine joy and pride. To be completely honest, I can’t say I haven’t done the same. After all we just waste time in different ways. The difference between us is that I don’t need a piece of paper saying that I did it.

On a happier note, high school will soon be over. Soon I’ll cross the finish line. Soon I’ll start working at my internship. Soon I’ll start on a new 4 year track.

Soon, life will bitch slap me in the face.