To The Very End.

I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve lived in a class filled with a bundle of eighteen girls., who all weren’t as close as your dream class would be, but not as apart as your reality would be either. I mean, we didn’t always get along, and there were even moments when we couldn’t stand each other. But there were still our times, when at the end of it all, we never let each other go. Maybe there were clashes and arguments, but isn’t that what sisters do sometimes? Isn’t that what a class filled with eighteen girls who had known each other for a year, others for three, and most for ten?

We’ve watched each other grow, and unveil into something static, and incredible, and euphoric, and it’s wondrous. All quiet incredible to be in a class filled with girls who not only look, but see and understand each other’s presence. We were never really bound by the bond of mere classmates, because if that was so, we wouldn’t have all wholeheartedly set our hearts into creating our own holidays in the midst of a very busy working week. We wouldn’t have crashed the music room in our gowns, and started using all the instruments like we even had some kind of unspoken of purpose. We wouldn’t have had an entire curricular made especially for us, if we were mere classmates. We wouldn’t have had taken pictures together all over the school, and we wouldn’t have attacked my Victoria Cake and annihilated its presence from the face of the earth, under five minutes, and still thought about the girls who didn’t get a bite.

If we truly were mere classmates, I would have never have typed this to even begin with. I would have never thought of September 2012 as only yesterday. I would have never looked at all of them and thought: Holy crap, this is the last time I walk into class and find a girl laying on the carpet, and another one happily dancing to some music, then another one in the corner over there fully indulged in her food.

Point is, we’re all more than just eighteen girls trapped inside of some class: We’re all more than classmates; More than anything that this world could possibly fathom. We’ve built our own family, and no matter how little we talked, or how less time we spent with each other, we’ll always look at each other with honor, and we’ve never forgotten that we’ve never let go, and that we’ve always smiled to the very end.

I understand a bunch of simple couldn’t capture the true essence that even built 12B. Because, a class as unique as ours needs an entirely different language, I believe, to fully depict this odd bond that wraps around us, and holds us all under one roof.

There will always be love, and care, and respect. There were arguments, and there were fights, but there was always harmony.

To the very, very end, my darlings. To the very, very end.

P.S. I’ll try to send you our famous Victoria Cake every month. 

I AM AN IDIOT

This is just a quick little thing. Nothing formal, or artistic, or anything along those lines, this is a message to all those who put surviving over living, and then call it logic. This is to those who cancel out their dreams because even reality is an unreachable height. This is to those who tear down a dreamer's bridge, and call it help. And to them I say:

I once read an article about a man who had dropped out of Harvard (after being an engineering student) in order to pursue his arts in culinary. I thought it was admirable. I would give him a standing ovation, if I must. Because, what is better than doing what you love after all?
So I told a certain bunch about him, and they all labeled him the same way: Idiot.
An idiot, is evidently a man who is strong enough, and courageous enough to throw away the weights bending his shoulders frontwards. An idiot is a man who is passionate, a man who will spend the rest of his lifetime fully immersed in his own works.

So, yes, if an idiot is all that has been stated above, then gladly, I am an idiot.

Sophie's Twelfth Blogger Challenge: Write a Poem | 'The Pot of Gold'

I've decided to partake in Sophie's (Twitter: Sosepho , blog: ilovenoodlez.wordpress.com) Blogger Challenge, because it's exciting and because it's fun and because it's educational and because I want and other ands. This a terrible introduction, but we're basically supposed to write a poem, so voila:

When you are your highest,

When you are your greatest,

And when you are your wisest,

Remember that there is the Wiser,

And that there is the greater,

And that there is the older,

Always much higher.

But never worry, no.

Never be afraid.

Because when you smile to the universe,

It’ll only smile back.

And when you laugh with your head bent back,

It’ll call upon the stars, and ask them to you.

To stand for you.

To stand by you.

To stand to you.

And when you smile a little more,

At all the funny and all the bad,

It’ll gift you a rose with no thorns.

And when you cry a little less,

At all the worries and the mess,

It’ll gift you a tree with only apples.

But if you look up again,

And you dance, and you sing, and you laugh,

Because goddamit you can!

It’ll gift you the Pot of Gold,

The Pot of Mercy, and All That is Swell and Well.