Just a Note

Its 2015 now. I feel like, at least for me, life comes in four year phases, and its been four years since the "Class of 2011" graduated. It feels like an important anniversary. Anniversaries are meant to be happy, aren't they? Please be happy then. This year, and every single other year.

The two of us would come see you again, should you ever want to. I hope you are smiling. The two of us will smile too. We'll find things to talk about, don't worry about that. I recall, at least, that the uniqueness of our conversations made them doubly entertaining.

Yours in clanmate-ship,

~A/C/R~

A Letter (kind-of-sort-of-not-really)

It has been years since I have written a letter, and I guess it will be up to the reader to decide whether this streak continues. At least for me, I would not consider this a letter, as the person whom I want to read this will likely never see it.

Yet if you ever read this, please read it carefully. This is hard, and forces me to open a mothball-filled chest I would rather remain closed. I have tried to keep myself away from this chest, yet from time to time, my thoughts stray to it, and inevitably, I end up with my fingers prying open its lid. It has taken me a very long time before I finally managed to leave it alone. My thoughts have been consumed with many other things since then, and the hinges of this chest have started to rust. Yet for you, I am willing to open this chest once again, perhaps one last time. The creak of the hinges as the chest opens sounds very bittersweet.

If I were ever to properly write this letter, put it in a envelope, and have it delivered to you, it would go something like this:

It has been a long time. A very, very, very long time. So many things have changed since then. I think and hope I am mostly unchanged. Even I, with my fear of growing up, cannot wholly resist the flow of time. If we were to meet again, would you recognize me?

Even if you can't, please know that I have tried. I have tried to stay myself, and I have paid the price. Yet I know you have tried even harder, and have paid an even dearer price. The flow of time is relentless, and grows even harder to resist as more years go by. It has already swept me away, and the times we passed together are starting to fade.

Starting to fade, yet I don't think I will ever forget. You are alive in my mind, as a person, not a memory a year old. I remember when we first met, and when we last met. You had changed hardly any between those two times, unlike me. It has been so long since I have lost The Game. And I have given up Neopets as new interests have come forward.

So many of the people we know have warped beyond recognition. There is only you and I, and an unnamed other, who sit to watch them grow up. It is a sad pastime, and for me, one of the biggest prices to pay for trying to remain unchanged.

If we ever meet again, we will have a lot to talk about. But until then, I, and the unnamed other, are still your friends. We still remember. So please, if you ever read this, remember too.

Yours in clanmate-ship,

~A/C/R~

The Significance of the Number Two and a Half

Two and a half months until it all ends. Four years of happiness and nostalgia, laughter and depression ending with the both dreaded and anticipated graduation. It is a day that I am not sure I ever want to happen.

How? How could my time here end like this? Hawthorne was my life since grade five, and after this, it will fade; retreat from the forefront of my thoughts until it is just a bittersweet memory among many others. I will be venturing into unexplored territory: high school.

My time at Hawthorne is mostly muddled, but some memories are still fresh; clear and pristine in my thoughts as if the events they encompass happened yesterday.

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I am at the back of a line. The line includes the individuals who will soon become a daily part of my life; my classmates.

Oddly enough, very few seem to be girls. In fact, other than me, I have counted only two. One of the girls is in the middle of the line. She is obviously familiar with some of the other classmates, as she and a certain number of them are grouped together and talking.

The other girl is right in front of me. 

“Hi,” I say tentatively, my voice hardly above that of a murmur.

She turns around. She is a Chinese girl with thick glasses, and longish black hair.

“Hello,” she says to me.  “My name is Emily.”

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The other girl, who's name I soon learn, is Augusta. She is quite tall, with bouncy, curly hair. Augusta is energetic and flighty, and can both talk and type at a absurdedly quick rate. She is also quite outgoing, and within a few months, started calling me "Cuddly", or "Cudlanis".


“Cuddly, you must get MSN!”

“No, I don't want to...”

“Cuddly, you must get MSN!”

She is also the person I have to thank for getting me hooked on Warriors. *sigh*, I can still remember her complaint about how long it was taking for “Sunrise” to come out, and then afterwards, her rants on how bad and depressing the book was.

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The quirky, creative, streak of Augusta balanced out Emily‘s natural sensibility. And then there was me, the over-reactive, super-childish, half-maniacal, immature one. It was never boring being part of the “Three”. NEVER.

High school is going to change all this. But all these precious memories that I have hoarded like treasures; how am I ever going to be able to let them go?

Cruelty and Kindness

(I have absolutely no idea why I am doing this in haiku. Just feel like it, I guess.)

People can be cruel.
It is a known fact, and yet 
I still wonder why.


Is it innate, or
are most people just like that?
I'll never find out. 



Cruelty is pointless.
Yet, one can say that kindness
is pointless as well.


We continue to
say that kindness is better.
That is because of:


The smile on the face
of a homeless person you
give a quarter to.


The "Thank You" you get
from helping a elderly
man across the street.


The tears that drip down
a mother's cheeks when you heal
her sickly child.


So for every
ten cruel people in this world,
there is a kind one.