Nostalgia

I had in mind the perfect post of all the things i wanted to say.
But perfection doesn't exist, so I'll try and make do with a normal post.

I was flipping through my photo album of all the Prom Photos the school photographer took and i just feel into this giant pit of sadness entangled with happiness. Sadness because i desperately miss the people i went to school with, the memories we made, the jokes we laughed about, the people we bitched about and the bathrooms we chilled out in. I miss high school and my classmates, so much. It literally feels like in the blink of an eye, everything happened and is gone. Not gone forever obviously, but its not there for me to touch or embrace, you know?

Goodness, we all looked so stunningly beautiful on our Prom Night, we really did, every single one of us. I don't think there was a single person i didn't look at and think "wow", everybody took my breathe away that night. Looking back at the picture now, i don't regret a single thing. I'm proud to have gone through and ended my high school experience with my grade. I'm glad i learnt the things i did and we grew together. I'm so sad, whilst writing this I've become overthrown with my emotions and i can feel myself choking up. But it's true though. 50 years from now, when i think "High School" i know I'm going to be damn proud thinking of my grade. I love you all.

At the back of my photo album, i found a different stack of photos. A few random photos from here and then, from primary school. Camp at Canberra, photos at school and a few photos some of my friends passed on to me when i left Sydney. This time, it saddens and pains me when i think about primary school. I know we were young and foolish but it just saddens me. You see, before i left to Geelong, i had this little notebook. I called it my "Profile Book" and i wrote a profile and I'd pass it onto my friends so they could follow pursuit and write a profile of their own. Oh the bitter sweet things my lovely friends wrote. Its so so hard to believe that we were only 11 or 12 years old. How easily words can be thrown around like a little tennis ball, back and forth back and forth, so recklessly. But then again, we were only 11 or 12. The sweetest things my friends wrote, and on one occasion myself.




It was this one page, this one messy and child-written page that really did make me proud of who i am today. Don't get me wrong, I'm being completely neutral here, and I'm most definitely NOT boasting. I don't boast... that much xD methinks. Anyway, what made me proud is that, although over these days, weeks, months and years, i am changing in all kinds of aspects, there is one thing i believe will never change about me. My ability to love. Not guys, screw them. But my friends. From such a young age of 11 or 12 [ my memory's completely shite ] i was so ... compassionate? I'll type up and post what i wrote before, but i can really tell that that little girl who wrote in that book was me. Its just amazing, remembering how you were then and seeing yourself now. The differences and the similarities, to compare and contrast, are just amazing.

I was loud, obnoxious, carefree, wild and full of love.
Today, I'm still the same.

I guess it just goes to show, the choice really is yours at the end of the day.
You can choose the person you want to be.
You can smother all that make up on your face, put on your trendy clothes and talk the way you talk that you think is cool. But just remember not to forget the real you. The person you were once without all that make up clothes and attitude. The real you. The person you once were. With no prodding, pressure or expectations to listen to and live up you, you were once yourself.

Why be someone else?
Why be like everyone else?

Why don't you just be you?



p/s
i know not much of this makes sense, but its 2.32am and my brain stopped working around.... Friday.