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.

Something From My Senior Project

As if our lives aren't miserable enough, our district forces us seniors to do a project that will make or break our grade in a class that is necessary for graduation. Fortunately the English department of the high school I attend decided that instead of writing research papers and involuntarily volunteering 30 plus hours, all we had to do is to create a website.

The website we are tasked to create must contain 5 pages: a home page, a blog page, a community outreach page, a resume page, and a portfolio page. Having to answer questions like "If you had to describe yourself as a cartoon character, which one would it be" and "Name three things that you would like to achieve within the next decade", the home page gave me a giant headache. Are we still in elementary school where they're trying to teach us to be narcissists?

The experience with the home page questions made me certain that the blog questions will just kill me; they must be answered with at least 6 sentences. I thought "whatever, I'll just fail it" but then I realized that I couldn't just fail it. Doing so will mean that I have to go through senior year again in a high school I'm dying to get out of. 

"I am just going to give them a steaming pile."

Or so I thought.

"Solving the riddles with such legitimacy that not even I can comprehend." -Me

***

How can I effectively express my opinions and perspectives?

Some people do it with music and dance. Some people do it with poetry and writing. Effectively expressing one's opinions and perspectives is very easy. There are T-shirts with messages, logos and mottos. There is also the internet of course, where writing a blog can be an effective way of expressing your opinions and perspectives. However, I do believe that in order for other people to listen to you. In order to express your opinions effectively, you cannot be too forceful and must listen and understand other people's opinions.

How can I use my talents to create new opportunities for myself and others?

Creating new opportunities for yourself and others might sound like a daunting task, but it can be as simple as writing down your observations and asking a question. Perhaps you may not have the knowledge to answer the question yourself, but if the right person comes around and has the ability to elaborate upon it, things like anti-matter (particles that destroy matter) can result from it. Newton had definitely proved this point to be true with his observation and questioning of why would an ordinary apple fall and hit him. (How mean of the apple?) This simple act had brought us our electricity, mobile phones and the internet. Granted it wasn't Newton who had invented those, but it was his talents that had created opportunities for others to improve upon it, which lead to an increase of standards of life for the populace.

It might at first sound difficult, but creating opportunities for yourself and others can be as simple as being an observant person.

What qualities define a good world citizen?

To be a good world citizen, it is of utmost importance for you to understand that the world doesn't revolve around you. You must be aware that there are people who are like you and there are also people who are drastically different from you. Not everybody thinks the way you do and being a good world citizen means that you would have to listen and understand them. Although you don't necessarily have to agree with them. By doing this, many unnecessary disagreements and heated exchanges between different cultures can simply be avoided, enabling society to advance into the future unhindered. Into the future full of promises.

***

Are they all not legitimate? I spent way more time on this then I thought I would have. Fifteen minutes turned into thirty minutes. From thirty minutes it turned into an hour. After three and a half hours, it was finally done!

What do you think of it? I'm particularly proud of that euphemism. ;P

Good Bye 2012

Since I've not been very festive about the last few holidays, I might as well hitch a ride on the bandwagon into 2013 while the chance is still present.

***

2012. Pretty routine. Other than the load of tests I had to take in the middle of the year and the internship thing. It would also be my first time of experiencing betrayal.

For the internship, all of us have to do a tri-fold presentation. It wasn't the kind that you have to present in front of everyone, not that we'll have the time for that anyway. All the tri-folds were put out on the hallways of our school for the teacher parent conferences and open house, and was taken down right after. They really were just obstructions after they served their purposes, and they don't benefit us in any shape or form.

We were given three weeks to finish the project. It was difficult because I'm not very interested in making artsy shit like fancy poster boards that shoots fireworks. Art I like, but poster boards, that is so 3rd grade. Not to mention the only things I have to make art with at home were a pair of scissor, a bottle of glue and a pack of color pencils my cousin gave me seven years ago. I wasn't exactly in the shape of making anything artsy and a betrayal from my intern partner didn't do anything to help either.

That fucker agreed to work on this poster board with me when I asked him during the internship. His job was to take all the pictures for the poster board and we'll split the work equally among us. But on the day we were given the rubric he flatly denied to anything of the sort and stated that he will refuse to work with me because he paid for the pictures he took to be printed on nice photo paper. Prick.

***

Now that 2012 is behind us, shall all the memories connected to it be gone with it. Lessons learned will be forgotten, emotions felt will be suppressed, shits happened will be disregarded. Older, fatter, more mature. I don't expect 2013 to be any different from 2012. Stupid worthless projects will still be given. Another Chlamydia outbreak at my school. And more the DOs and DON'Ts from our counselors.

(I'm still curious as to how exactly did the proper authorities found out about the outbreak.)

2013 will be the same, or as my friend had eloquently put it, "Same shit different year".

To stay festive: Happy new year to you all! Have a great 2013!

Dense Fog

The last few days started out blurry. Dense fog lingered deep into the afternoons, giving the world an unusual but supernatural appearance.

Almost everyday I wake when most of the world is still asleep in their beds. When no sounds were made by people or animal. No lights from the streetlights or the rising sun. When it was just me, alone in the dark, wandering and struggling to find my way through the thick cobweb to the bus stop.

I felt alone. The last man in the world. Concerns of the living and the dead seem to matter less and less. It was just me, trying to reach a destination for a purpose. Soon the sounds of passing car engines faded into the background and the destination and the purpose also waned.

I turned around as if someone had called. I looked afar, the fog was observed to glow a ghostly white. Straight dark lines stood there in an orderly fashion, as if I was looking into some great forest. Or perhaps they were the silhouettes of the dead, my ancestors. Could they have been looking at me, sizing me up?

I wondered if I've lived up to their expectations or if they knew what the future holds. But I was scared to ask. Scared to believe in the supernatural. And above all, I was scared to find out. But even if I had pull together my strengths, how would I've asked? I didn't even know their names. In the mass gathering of spirits, I was reluctant to embarrass them.

They read my mind as it appeared. Two bright dots began to come toward me. Am I ready to find out the truth, I pondered. I thought my answers were going to get answered, answered by the all knowing spirits that live in the other kingdom. I thought my deepest secrets were uncovered, laid bare in front of the mind readers. I also thought of many other things, but they shall remain buried. I was hoping for a chance to say sorry to my grandpa.

The lights flew passed me and a stroke of yellow followed.

"F***!" and I started running.

Now You Know

[My first "serious" poetry, wouldn't have done it unless was homework. I copied it straight out of my homework, so hopefully said programs (there are supposedly programs that would comb through the web to find if we plagiarized our homework from somewhere, nice lie) won't find this and cause me to have a conference with my teacher... I highly doubt it though.]


Born crying,
Without a dream,
And without a goal,
But my life went on.

Made troubles,
Sometimes silly,
And sometimes severe,
But they asked for it.

The water wasn’t friendly,
So weren’t the diseases,
It was a treacherous journey,
But I survived.

I fret,
I weep,
And sometimes curse,
When told to describe myself.
Perhaps I'm a still stranger to myself.

And The Torturing Begins

It felt like it was just yesterday that I was awoken by the sound of my radio and swore because of sleep deprivation. It was just last year that summer actually felt like it took three months to pass, but this year it went by so fast that it felt as if I’ve gone to bed on the first day of summer break and woke up already to a new school year. To whoever that is controlling the passing of time, please don’t mistakenly hit the fast forward button again next year.

Even though there was a million reasons for me to just shut the radio off and go back to sleep, but the routine must continue. As a creature of habit my morning was always the same, and it never would change. I woke up, got dressed, brushed my teeth, ate breakfast, and rushed off to my bus stop. I assumed that no one was going to be at the bus stop and I’ll have to stand there all alone by myself, but for once I was glad to be wrong.

Happiness overcame me when I saw my friends. I was expecting them to look somewhat different like how it had always happened, but puberty failed me expectations. I should’ve known that by the time when people made it to the last year of high school, they would’ve grown out of it and stop changing at such rapid paces. People looked the same, teachers looked the same. Other than the two different teachers I’m stuck with for the year and the congestions the new guys created in the hallway, nothing else hinted the beginning of a new school year.

The new guys reminded me of well, me. The confusion, the fear, I know it all too well. But I’m a senior this year, which gave me the right to slap the books off of the little children’s hands and walk away laughing or perhaps trip them up and gift them a few smashes in the face. I’m sure they will appreciate that, right? How can a decent human being deprive one of happiness and self esteem?

Oh the ironies.

A Strange Saturday

I exhausted all types of rituals I have ever known to prevent something from happening, and it happened to be a Saturday on this rare occasion. I performed dances, made prayers and shouted verbal threats. In the end, nothing worked.

I was still reeling from the weeklong sleep drought when my radio alarm blasted at me with murderous pop songs at six thirty. Absurd lyrics and obnoxious beats of such noise soon gave me a pulsating migraine. I opened my eyes to find the off button, but was thwarted by a blurred vision. Only then, did I actually know what it meant to be bleary eyed.

I guess I can’t blame anyone for my sufferings. It was, after all, my choice to violate the sacred pact of mankind to not wake early on weekends (does this makes me less human?). Nevertheless I have done so with the purpose of acquiring the key to unlock my dream. I just need to perform well on the two tests, easy enough. But the two tests just don’t seem to be willing to cooperate, they are more eager to end dreams than they are helping you to achieve it. To prepare for the onslaught, studying was given first priority, or so I thought.

Lacking self discipline and without a tradition of studying, it was downright impossible to get myself to set aside sometime to at least smell the study guide. I’ve had it for a month, but I’ve only put in about ten hours of studying time. About more than half of the time was accumulated the night before the test. As far as I was concerned, one can never properly prepare for a standardize test. You either know that stuff, or you don’t.

The late night studying didn’t help with my deprivation of sleep. Coupled with insomnia, I have only had about five hours of sleep before the examination. It wasn’t exactly the type of thing recommended by the testing agency. I woke up bleary eyed, got dressed and wobbled downstairs. With the TV buzzing in the background and coffee at arm’s length, I busied myself with iPad apps until it was time for me to leave for the test center.

The morning was bright enough to not have the headlight turned on. The Sun was up, though it was struggling to force through the clouds. It was a lost battle, however. The clouds were staged in a staggering formation and have more than adequate to cover the entire morning sky.

In all honesty I was a bit nervous, but as soon as I walked out the door, I felt alright.  The morning chill was comforting. It even lured the butterfly in my stomach out to dance in this refreshing air. I drove with the window all the way down and let the cold wind blow against my face. It felt good, slightly hypnotizing. And not long after, I had completely forgotten the reason why I was out driving.

I arrived at the testing center at last. They asked for my ticket and a photo id and as told a room number to go to. I obeyed.

***

“I should’ve studied more.”

100 Words: Mr. School

Mr. School has been with me ever since I was three. He is of large build, with many looks and muscles of bricks and stone.


Self-centered, Mr. School demands attention for seven hours a day, five days a week. With a bad temper, Mr. School would snarl and threatens to bite my head off when I forget to feed. Lucky for me the worst he can possibly do is to give me a few cuts and... no bruises.


Oh, other than his bad habit of binge eating, Mr. School also craves for refreshing ice cold ink served in pen casings.

Just Like Any Other Day

After an exhausting day at school, John is eager for the final bell to ring. Eager to be "Saved by the Bell" from daily imprisonment and forced learning. Working from 7:20 till the end of the school day, the bell never fails to go off at a regulated interval to indicate the beginning or the end of classes. And today is no different than any other day, the bell went off at 2:11 p.m. Saving John once more.


Today, like any other day, John had everything packed and ready to go. Ready to crowd the already crowed hallway with him and his overfilled backpack. His friends always jokes about how they can feel the gravity from his backpack and feeling themselves being pulled towards it. And like always, he pushes through the crowd in hopes of getting his usual spot on the school bus before someone else does.


Once again, the bus is separated into two part. One consists of kids from the low middle class in the back and one consists of kids from the middle middle class in the front. John's usual seat is the 3rd one behind the driver, located on the left side of the bus. No one on the bus minds where they are seated, but that is how it usually turns out.


Likewise, John is early enough to claim the seat that is unofficially his. After the bus is almost full, Steven stumbles onto the bus and sits next to John relieving John of his biggest fear. John always hated to not have someone to talk to on the home-bound school bus. "I feel like a dumb ass," the way he puts it.


John and Steven don't have much in common except for the way they both think. They have known each other for 4 years now, their friendship developed from the simple "hey what's up" type of friends to a now deeper and more sincere "if you die, I'll try to be sad" type of friends. There are no limits to what they bring up in their conversation, it can be anything from "you are like a triangle" to "flying school buses".


***


After hours of nothing but homework, John feels a little down. And ironically the radio station is playing Mother's Little Helper, out of all songs. Frustrated by the amount of homework, John throws his homework at the wall, disturbing the normally neat room, and lies down on his bed in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. When he does that, it usually means that when the homework is handed back, it will be shredded into fine particles of dust or burned. But something is now flickering in John mind, something that happened on the bus earlier today.


"Is my watch made in China? I bet it is."
"Taiwan."
"How do you know?"
"It said so on the back, let me point it out to you."
"Where? I don't see it."
"There!"
"STOP IT YOU PIECE OF SHIT! Stop trying to spin the stupid compass on my watch!"
"Blah blah blah blah, blah."
"Are you straight?"
"Yea? Well, what kinda"
"Well, if you are, you wouldn't be spinning things around like you are right now."


John got up and start walking out of his room, humming his favorite song.