This end marks a new beginning.

After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. ~J.K. Rowling, "The Man with Two Faces," Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, 1997, spoken by the character Albus Dumbledore

No one has died, but an era has ended. It's just past midnight, so it's now officially a new day, so I must phrase this differently. Yesterday was my very last day of secondary school. It's finished now, kaput, over. As far as I'm concerned, according to the law as of now, I'm legally allowed to never return to higher education. (Of course I will, but that's not the point; the point is it's over.)

A flurry of different emotions have tackled me today. From the morning, I felt excited to see everybody again for our Leavers' Assembly. Our pen-ultimate goodbye. Our farewell to ever wearing school uniform again. Seeing all the people who had had their last exam the week before and were technically finished then. Let's put it this way: I didn't have to be dragged out of bed this morning. Excitement.

Directly after the assembly came Stage I of the impending sense of 'End'. We all loitered about the school gates, supposedly all feeling this sensation. There were signings of shirts; there were hugs, emotional exchanges. It came to a point where a teacher of ours had to command us to, "Dissipate! Go home! You're finally free and now you won't leave?" But I didn't want to. I'm going to see them all again on Friday particularly, but this is the last time we're in uniform. There was a somewhat irrational uncertainty in the air.

After this, we went to my friend's house to chill for a bit. There's absolutely no way we could just leave for home now - how anti-climatic would that be? A complete destroyer of the day, an absolute downer. We had to do one last thing. We stayed at this friend's house from midday to roughly six PM. During this, the sense of 'End' slept for a while; we lost ourselves in our friendship, becoming quixotic in our beliefs of unity. We'll always keep in touch. We're us.

And so came the time to leave said friend's house. Initiate Stage II of the impending sense of 'End'. The amount of bodies present was significantly lower; it felt more tight-knit - Stage II was an intensified version of Stage I. (I predict Friday, the night of Prom, will harbour Stage III - the most intense stage of all). I didn't want to leave; we sat, stood, chatted in the streets for another hour until it was getting ridiculous. We had to part.

This is getting too long for myself now, so I'm going to fast-forward to an argument I had with a friend via IM. They (I'm using 'they' for the sake of protecting the gender) made me feel as though I wasn't their friend at all, and they lacked any sort of remorse ... Never able to admit they're in the wrong; they threw the day into a completely different perspective for me.

It got me thinking about how our journey has been like a hike and now we're approaching a precipice, a cliff. Those who are staying at the school for sixth-form are like those who turn from the cliff and search for a different way forward. Those of us who are moving, going to different schools/colleges to embark on our A Levels, are like those with wings, flying from the precipice. With my friend's annoying argument, it reminded me of why I'm leaving. I'm off to fly, to start afresh. Perhaps I'm slightly annoyed now and I feel as though I want to soar away and never look back, but when I calm, I know I won't want to completely sever contact. But the point is, I'm still flying away. And I love it.

The argument reminded me of what I love so much about life: the duality of it all. As they say, only a light can cast a shadow; so upon the arrival of shadow, one knows nearby there is light. And this is what I've found. My close friend made me feel as though our relationship is shit, but it only opened my eyes to the future ahead. The future, it's mine. I will hopefully make fantastic friends. Don't get me wrong, I love my friends now, but perhaps I will have friends that are constantly there for me, so I can constantly be there for them. Perhaps I'm asking too much of today's youth with this, but I just want a good old fashioned friendship.

This End seems dark, yet I can't help but descry the light in the distance.

I love life.

A Future Complex

Hello,

I'm going to open this with reference to the previous post, stating that the blog will be "on indefinite hold" - or something like that. Well, scrap that. The life of blogging has allured me once more and, hey, why shouldn't I give it another crack?

(Why? You have nothing interesting to say? Nobody cares anyway? Hey, you, shut up.)

Like always, I've had a few things on my mind recently, but my largest revelation is that I have a Future Complex. By which I mean to say, like those who have superiority complexes are obsessed with their own superiority, I am obsessed with my future. At the age of 11, I knew unchangeably what continent I would live in when I was older. This hasn't changed. Though I've always been inclined towards it, by 13/14 I knew that writing would have to be a part of my profession. By 15, I had already chosen 2 potential universities that I wanted to go to. Now, at 16, I've decided more exactly what area of the aforementioned continent I want to live on.

However, none of this worries me. Imagining, thinking, dreaming - they're all parts of me that I don't wish to banish any time soon. (Though sometimes those qualities are unfortunate - say, when you're a pensive pre-teen who continuously thinks about what happens after death and scares himself into almost-sleepless nights.) However, I do wonder if I take it too far when - being only 16 - I think of what I want to do when I'm old and grey and have retired. I've been thinking about where I'll live, what I'll do to pass the time, whether I'll have the fortune of being able, actually, to continue my job (as I doubt it will be labour intensive).

I've just about managed to stop myself from thinking too thoroughly about what happens after we die, and now I'm on old age? I do have issues. All the same, these attributes are me and I quite like my mental time-travelling journeys. I think it has much to do with my age - the typical Bildungsroman age, finding yourself, etc. - but I can't wait till the future. What will it be like? Can I live up to my imagination? I hope so. I'm not too quixotic.

That's my return to blogging, though. Now to go and do some outstanding things that affect my present, like: watch 90210 and then finish The Diary of Anne Frank so I can get started on Will Grayson, Will Grayson by David Levithan & my favourite author.