It's funny, really.

Actually when I was in school, I didn't feel anything about it. To me, school life was just an endless repeat of the same events, and it included meeting the same people, seeing the same things over and over again for close to a zillion times. Despite being renowned in school for having dim intellect (my name can forever be found in the list of people required to attend after-class remedial ALL the time) and being treated as the dolt I am- I didn't exactly loathe school. Perhaps the only time I carried enmity towards it was during Physical Education.

Urgh. Physical Education class is just CRAP. When we are forced to take NAPFA (ahhh, some random fitness test) we would be trained so vigorously- running around in laps, crunches and whatever. Surprisingly, I went through the training, and in the end, had this three letters written on my report card : NIL. The funnier thing is, I received an invitation to join the army. Well, the government most likely sends it to everyone meeting the age requirement, but come on, sending such a letter to A GIRL WHO FAILED HER FITNESS TEST?!

Back to the main topic. I'm the Princess at digressing.

I recently realized I really miss seeing the old faces. Perhaps this is it. One can't use to change once they are forced to be in a new, unfamiliar environment and lifestyle. I just want to sit in class, being the loner that I am, separated from the rest, writing my stories, doodling on my sketchbook, listening to the rest of my hilarious classmates going about teasing each other, cracking jokes, taking a shot at the teacher, laughing and making a fool of all of us. I want to see my teachers, angrily striding to me, asking me why I had (again) failed my tests, asking me where my problem was, asking me if I thought I could make it to a Junior College with my blasted results.

It's just funny. Humans are always like this.

We don't know how much we have, till we start to lose it.

True, I have a brand new life waiting for me in Polytechnic, but one always cannot help but look to the past and stare lovingly at the fond memories.

We only try to grasp happiness once it has slipped through our fingers.

Probably, this is the only way we can learn to appreciate and mature.

This was my class, back when I was still in Secondary school. My Secondary School had a pretty queer name for a school in Singapore. It was called 'Swiss Cottage Secondary School'. Aye, it was the school that ruined my future, honestly, but now I look back and laugh (while criticizing them mercilessly). My class was known as 4E4. 4, being the level, E, being Express, and 4, being basically the class number. In Singapore, there are three different streams, Express, Normal, and Technical. They are grouped based on their academic achievements and own capabilities, with Express of course, being the cream of the pot.

And yeah, through it you can see the mess our class made of the classroom we were allocated to.

Honestly, I pity those juniors of mine who would be sent to use that classroom for their own studies... I think some of my classmates stayed back and burnt the tables. There was a strange yellow patch with a black circular ring in the center the last time I returned to my classroom to revise for my major examinations.

And yes, the pretty female teacher you see in the photo was my Biology teacher. She is a really kind teacher. I think I look up to her a lot. Kind and pretty. And smart, of course. She was the only one who came to me when I received my results and comforted me about it. I think I did injustice towards her with my blasted Biology results. I didn't fail, but it was pretty bad anyway. She was smiling and patting me telling me I have put in my best- which was true, but it just didn't show. Ahh, blasted.

So yeah, enough of the touchy-feely stuffs.

I named this part 1, because I am planning to type the sequel tomorrow.

That, would be an even more sentimental post as I come clean with myself. Why tomorrow? Because it's Valentine's. The perfect time to let go of THAT past.

Yes, tomorrow I'd type about a guy, the guy whom I cannot erase from my thoughts for 3 years, and took me nearly one whole year before I finally told myself it was okay to let it go. It took me ONE year before I could act normally around him. When I think about it, I think it was ridiculous, but perhaps it proved that actually, the affection I had to him wasn't exactly that of simply a crush. It was something beyond it.

Blah. If only things like hearts didn't exist, sometimes.