One more week of holidays...please?

While writing this I am dreading the thought of returning to school tomorrow. School means waking up at six in the morning just to get a spot near the heater in the library. The only excitable concept about going back to school is I get to see my friends again. Apart from that, I feel like school is like a status labellar. Firstly there are there the super smart kids who are destined for a bright and prosperous future. Then, the populars who are unfairly bright and beautiful. Then...okay, my school is not that stereotypical. But from time to time I do feel like some kids get all the luck. They have good looks, smart, happy family life, wealthy background and have a well paid part-time job. The teachers praise them for their excellent work results while people like me hang around until the last minute of each class waiting to ask the teacher for feedback, only to be self reminded that I will never be able to produce work as erudite as some other people because they are naturally smart.

I hate the concept of school because it makes you believe that you can't succeed without an education. If you are not naturally smart you are only average. The word average always hits a sensitive soft on my heart. If you are average you are just another fish swimming in the large blue ocean. No power, no status. I'm being rather hypocritical here. I want an education. Not because I necessarily believe in it, but because I want to finish what I have started and slaved over for the last twelve years of my life. One day when I live my own life I will probably have forgotten the things I once learned as a sixth former in high school. Because you forget things that don't mean anything to you. However, high school encounterings like the friends I've made and the life experiences I've gained mean I will possibly still remember. I wish I can start liking late nights of study and early mornings in the life. Perhaps one day I will miss these days of youth. But until then...can I have one more week of the holidays...please?

Seventeen candles

On the second of July this year, I turned seventeen. Ten years ago, I thought twelve was a big number to reach, seventeen was unthinkably far away. Sweet seventeen represents the start of a new era in my life. Not a child but not yet an adult. The days pass quickly as we grow older, the candles on the cake keep on increasing. Soon, there will not be enough room to fit all of the candles. That's how many years I've been in this world. Although we think time passes slowly. Counting the seconds, minutes in each day, it seems it will be a lifetime before we reach a year. Yet, I've counted seventeen of those years in my short life.

Looking at my Mum, a woman who is nearly forty still dancing around happily in the room. Noticing at her current activity you 'd think she is a little kid waiting to count every star in the night sky. She represents the sole concept that age is but a number. Although we have no control over the effect time has on our bodies, we do have control on how time affects our minds. We age when we choose to age. For some people, that time is never.

Blowing out the candles on my black forest cake while being surrounded by my family and friends reminds me of how beautiful yet short life is. There are the times where the world is dark and hopeless but there are also the moments where candles shine their brightest. Sweet seventeen. Seventeen brightly lit candles creating dim reflections on the living room wall. My friends hint that I'm becoming an old lady. Yes, in some sense I am not getting any younger. I can't tie a string around time and hide it away in my closet so I can stay seventeen forever. But I can choose what to do with the time God has given me. I know that no matter how many candles that will be added to my cake in the years to come, I'll remain a kid at heart.