|
| because when i'm alone, you're all i can think about.
| | |
| ... knowing that we both left something special behind. I will always love you Sarah Liu
| | |
| New years are supposed to herald new beginnings; why does it feel as if the cycle has merely reset itself? Admittedly, this feeling is different, something that is indescribable, unfathomable. To call it sorrow would be grossly inaccurate, whilst to label it happiness would definitely be overboard. No, melancholic indifference is what I deign it to be. Or at least that is what it feels like. To the uneducated reader, the aforementioned emotional state refers to feeling unsure of what the future holds, torn between eager anticipation of moving forward and the fond remembrance of the past. Essentially, it embodies the emotional innertia one invariably feels when transitioning from one chapter of life to the next.
Unlike Frost's The Road Not Taken, which only features 2 separate paths, the current situation concerns multiple, diverging paths, each leading to places still unknown. Yes dear reader, this post relates to the inevitable separation following graduation. "To each his/her own" is a phrase that I find particularly apt; it accurately captures the movement of individuals in an infinite number of directions, away from the uniting nucleus that was school. Like the seeds of a plant, we will be carried away from each other, towards places and in directions that may - at times - even confuse us. We will be spirited away, whether we allow ourselves to be or not. We will be caught up by and enveloped by the world around us; perhaps, we may even be swallowed whole. In this case, survival lies in the hands of fortune and providence. Some may emerge stronger, harder, more resolute. Others will break, and fall, disappointed and disillusioned, by the wayside. Hopefully, like iron sharpening iron, the majority of us will move on to higher ground, toward a better, brighter future.
That said however, there will always be a part of us that desperately holds on to the past. Memories, as a wise person once said, have a power that transcends human understanding. They have the inexplicable ability to ensnare an individual, trapping him in the past, preventing forward progress. Perhaps that is what they mean by the saying "living in the past". Granted, the past provides elements of stability that might be found wanting in the immediate future; however, change is inevitable, and cannot be preempted. Inasmuch as we would wish to remain 18 forever, young and carefree, it is impossible. So forward we go, marching toward dreams and ambitions that seem to appear right on the horizon itself. It is moments like these that one's morale is at its lowest. There is nothing more disparaging than to always be so near yet so far away from fulfilling the desires of our hearts. And yet, we cannot stop. For we know that to stop means to give up the last remaining shred of hope, and by extension, our sanity.
Ladies and gentlemen, I put to you this: we are enemies of our own design; the more we resist change, the faster it overwhelms us. The more we live in the past and wish for time to come to a standstill, the faster it seems to flow. Mother nature is oddly perverse in that regard. Should we fail to understand that continuity is an absolute certainty, then we only have ourselves to blame. Let us therefore not live in the past, but look forward to the future. Only time will tell where providence - and the wind - carries each and every one of us.
| | |
| The beautifully ironic thing about the end is that while everyone can see it coming, its arrival nevertheless has a gargantuan impact on everyone concerned. We've all seen this coming for months now. I daresay we've even had dreams of this moment where freedom was finally bestowed upon our weary souls. And yet when that moment actually arrives, we find ourselves stricken, paralyzed by some inexplicable force. Body and soul, incapable of moving on, physically as well as psychologically. It would seem that an invisible barrier exists; psychological innertia of the most potent kind. Truth be told: We do not want to move on.
Thinking about moving on is quite the fear-inducing process. Yet perhaps it is only natural. Everyone is afraid of the unknown, its part of human nature. That said, when we left our second homes today, believe me when i say that we did not just leave physically. No, part of us will always remain behind, no matter how hard we try, it is impossible to achieve a clean break. (Not that any of us would ever even think of trying to extricate ourselves in entirety).
To most of us - myself included - the institution at Dover road holds a smorgasbord of memories, having spent the formative years - as some might term it - roaming the wide expanse that was our campus. Note that i say "was", in recognition of our new status as alumni. Well, almost anyway. Everything, from LDP in secondary 4 to Centrestage in year 5, holds a very dear place in our hearts. Everywhere we look and turn, there will always be something that will capture our attention, caterpaulting us back into the memories of yesteryear.
In fact, i remember much of my time spent there in vivid detail. So much so that it feels like it was just yesterday that I entered the school (not quite the awkward secondary 1 student, but you get the point). I remember being eager to meet new people and make new friends. And perhaps, play pranks on them of course, but that was back then. Even as today marks the end of a 6-year marathon, even as i formally walked out the gates of school for the last time, I honestly felt grateful. Honestly, I am entirely grateful for everything that the school has given me. Formal education apart, ACS has molded me into a person that no other educational institute possibly could. It is the unique blend of academia and character development that i would attribute to the incredible, once in a lifetime experience that i have had the privilege of being a part of.
I do not know if the majority of you realized, but the last gathering we had as a cohort in the mid-afternoon was especially significant. If memory serves me right, i believe that it was the place where we had our first cohort gathering, sometime back in early 2008. Looking around, it was somewhat difficult to picture the awkward shells of ourselves that we were less than 2 years ago, as compared to the confident, mature adults i expect we all are now. And yet, memories of the first days - in our initial forray into the jungle that is IB - came rushing back, making it an extremely poignant moment. Words cannot begin to describe how i felt.
For the past 6 years, I've grown accustomed to seeing the same faces, day in, day out. While at the end of sec 4, some faces disappeared, ostensibly for a prolonged period of time, the majority remained, making it somewhat tolerable. And yet now, even as i stand on the brink of this monumental transition, i find myself constantly looking back, wondering if the way forward is truly the way forward. Life apart from ACS seems life apart from life itself. I have yet to experience it and already it feels empty, pale in comparison to the colourful vibrance of the SAC and its inhabitants.
While I may never have had a conversation with some of you, i know in absolute certainty that we share a common sentiment. Our time spent in ACS, be it 2 years or 6 years, is absolutely priceless and nothing will ever change that. Even after the days of walking the corridors of the year 5/6 levels have passed, our shadows will remain. The sound of the ACS anthem will resonate within our very being. Cut us open, and we will bleed red, blue and gold. Truly, it has been nothing short of a pleasure.
Cheers,
D.
| | |
| I've come to realize that religion truly is a powerful concept. Not only does it have the power to inspire hope where there is none, it is also capable of making people to the craziest things. It creates belief where none pre-existed, drawing on the ephemeral notion of faith. As much as i would like to believe that there is more to it than meets the eye, simply put, that is what religion is. It is nothing but a social construct designed with the sole purpose of making people feel better, giving them hope when there actually is none. Without a doubt, it is the opiate of the people - as Marx once famously said - and is something society is incapable of functioning without.
We all need something to believe in, be in science, fellow human beings or seemingly omniscient, invisible entities. Regardless of what we choose to believe in, the end result is the same. Reliance on anything other than onself for strength and courage, is foolishly indulgent and invariably weak. Not only is it foolish to hold firm to the hope that one day, some all-seeing entity will come and save you, it is also ridiculous to hold so much stock in the words of such "entities" as it were.
I understand that faith is an extraordinary manifestation of the strength of the human spirit. Yet perhaps where religion is concerned, this faith is acutely misplaced. One would be better of believing in other, more tangible entities as opposed to something that can neither be proved to exist, nor proved to even have compassion for that matter. Why and how should we place the fate of our lives in the hands of something that is as intangible as gravity. Granted, although we cannot see gravity, we know it exists. But that is because scientific experimentation tells us so. On the other hand, there is no way for us to know for certain whether there even IS such a thing as a higher sentient being. And yet, we pray, seemingly to reassure ourselves that everything is going to be okay. I'd hate to be bearer of bad news, but no, everything is NOT going to be okay. Unless we choose to take our lives into our own hands, we will only have ourselves to blame for any undesirable outcomes. Sure we could as easily blame God for all the terrible stuff that happens to us. But let us not forget, more likely than not, it is our inaction due to faith and prayer that results in the unfortunate outcomes as it were. Truly, we are masters of our own fate, we control the outcome - deterministic as that might sound.
Likewise, Hollywood tells us that prayer should be restricted strictly to the moments prior to imminent demise. At that point, one would be obliged to prostrate oneself before whatever gods he or she believes in, and beg for mercy from an impassive entity. In that moment, we would hope with all our hearts that someone or something hears our prayers. We might cry out to the "gods of the universe", in the height of our desperation, knowing full well perhaps that no one will respond, no one will save us, because no one cares. True story.
D.
| | |
|
|
|
<$BlogItemTitle$>
<$Xanga_Posts$>
| |
