TGIF? Perhaps not.

I rang in sick today. Wasn't able to get my self to school.
Fatigue overwhelms me. That coupled with a nagging pain that resides in somewhere above my stomach. And the mere thought that today's lessons end at 410.

Blah.

You girls are sweet. (:
Thanks for those lovely messages and yes, I miss you people too!


Idling around at home, I melded with the computer. After the bloghopping and MSN chattings, I went on a whim and reread all my previous posts starting from the very first virgin post I written in Blogger.

Naturally, I flinced in embarassment and winced in shame as I took in my childish writing, petulant manner and petty thoughts. I could almost hear the monitor going tsktsk, but of course, hallucination knows me by name.

However, nostalgia gave my heart a funny tug as I scrolled through hilarious events and angry rantings. Did 4 years really flew by so quickly? Did we really did all those stuff? Did I really type so horribly?
(And the funny thing was, at that point of my life, I was SO DAMN proud of the way I written my posts. I took so much pride in it. After publishing it, I would read it over and over, savouring how nice and "stylo-malo" the entry was written. Now when I look at it, I couldn't read on after the first few lines.)


And tomorrow we shall be getting our results. Both anticipation and dread courses through me. Anticipation because, we all be in the same school again, clad in the same uniform. All together, the old familarity suddenly so awkward yet so sweet. No more newly minted JJs yelling and proclaiming their love for their insituitions, screaming orientation cheers together, words that have no meaning to me, their longing for Unity no longer apparent, their tears during graduation night forgotten. But instead, Unitians once again, reuniting tomorrow, anxious over results.
Dread because this results would serve as a final cut. A final severement to Unity sec. Once the results is in our hands, we no longer belong. The connection snapped. Gradually, we will fade and will be remembered as "graduates of 2005", not as class 45, 46, 47, 48. In our teachers' memories, our faces will eventually mesh together into one big sea of eyes and grins, our quirks and traits forgotten. Only the GPA of the entire class she had taught will remain, vague but existing, in her memory, a proof of her teaching capability.

Our registry ripped, shredded. Photos taken down. Any lingering sign of our presence in the school destroyed for the new Unitians. The classrooms that we dominate, the hallways that we ruled, now no longer ours. The school, now only a name to us ; Alma Mater.


No matter what they try to tell you about the Polys you re going, or the JCs you re heading, it will stilll hurt. To see them wiping clear the evidence you ever existed as a Unitian.