It's that time of year again

As the year 2012 winds down to an end and the following year dawns upon you and I, we look back at the amazingly good, the horribly bad, and the downright nasty of this year. These highlights of the year will hopefully be able to sum up this rollercoaster year and do good as a warning memento in the near future.

Probably the first thing that comes to mind is the STE examinations and the journey throughout the year. This is probably the only thing that has been amazingly good while being able to be horribly bad and at times downright nasty.Overall, I believe that it has just been absolutely immense, taking in all the life lessons, the daunting stress of the mind, the late nights, the minimal laughs and the post-exam freedom, I'm extremely grateful I've gone through it all. Would I go through it again? Yes and no. But more to no.

Along with raping the mind with books throughout the first few weeks, the school decides to wedge an inter-school competition in the midst of the whole thing. While this was distracting the hell out of all of us, it was still a pretty amazingly good experience. And probably the last. For this year marks the last of the Inter-Madrasah Games, or more aptly known as IMG, and, while looking alarmingly similar to an image format, it has been good while it lasted, and although I only managed a solitary silver, I won't spout any excuses (though tbh the only competitive year was this year) (and the stadium was absolute rubbish) (IT WAS EXAM YEAR) and accept it and wave farewell and look to the future. And IHG. Which has been equally great. Credits to JMS for destroying IMG.

Besides shoving sports events up our bottoms, the school decided we should have a debate team (two in fact, if not for the other team being, well, non-existent really) sent for a debate competition. Along with four other mates, we managed to claw our way through preliminaries, scrape through the quarters and semis, before surprisingly breezing through the finals, brushing aside opponents from universities and tertiary insituitions. As a personal account, I was badly written off by a number of people only known to the same four members that I was with, but well, I've succeeded. So really, shove it up your asses. It was such an enlightening utopia from the humdrum studying and I've really come to like it. So, when's the next competition?


This year also marked the first time I was diagnosed with cataracts. After suspected by an optician, I was sent to a hospital to see what's what. I had to go through blood tests and acuity tests and half the year's worth of time waiting as doctors try to find out why I'm down with cataracts. Doctors pin it down on hereditary issues but I'm pretty sure I got it out of nothing. Either way, surgery was decided after everything was over, which was around the end of the year, but sadly along the way I had to miss out two to three weeks of the holiday time doing strenuous stuff like sports. And I was too long-sighted for close-range activities from reading and writing to using my phone (sobs). Anyway. an assessment after the surgeries were done revealed that the lens in my left is off by a mere 200 degrees. Mere. I'm scheduled for another surgery to replace the lens next year so hopefully it will all be well. Downright nasty.

This year also marked the departure and disposal of two of my classmates. I'll let you categorize this into wherever you want. Honestly, one was a full on 24 stone prick who is deluded and sadly ignorantly stupid. He leaves after the school had decided after four years, that they'd had enough, and would let him go or they'd expel the pillock, four years too late. He didn't pay the fees, he never paid attention in class, and is constantly into trouble. Now he hasn't any future.  The other was a real asshat who thinks himself above others and generally is a wanker. This one was a tad smart though, albeit not smart enough to do what's right and eventually migrate out of the country. Both of you have cause me a great deal of trouble, and I wish of you all the best in future. Now sod off already.

There's probably a ton of other things, but I'm afraid I can't recall. Maybe next time I won't be as mentally old and will remember the good times. Here's to an immense 2012 and until next time, happy new year gaiz.

Nostalgia

You could be happyAnd I won't knowBut you weren't happyThe day I watched you go
And all the thingsThat I wished I had not saidAre played on loopsTill it's madness in my head
Is it too late to remind youHow we wereBut not our last days of silenceScreaming, blur
Most of what I rememberMakes me sureI should have stopped you from walkingOut the door
You could be happyI hope you areYou made me happierThan I'd been by far
Somehow everythingI own smells of youAnd for the tiniest momentIt's all not true
Do the thingsThat you always wanted toWithout me there to hold you backDon't think, just do
More than anythingI want to see you goTake a glorious biteOut of the whole world

The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus - Your Guardian Angel

Purgation

The plane didn't have a smooth flight. A swoop to the left, a swoop to the right, and a few disconcerting spins before the nose went too high up and stalled, causing it to nose-dive for the lush grass.

Matthew watches on as the paper plane fell from the starless sky down the horizon. The tall grass meant he would miss the moment of impact, and along with it any trace of its location as it disappeared into the dark of the night. We have a bird down, Matt says in his head, plopping onto the soft greens, clearing his lungs.

Matt's watch ticks midnight. The moon was still going strong, lighting up the obsolete sky and he could feel his pulse slowing as he relaxed. This was his little utopia, a getaway place where he would retreat to for a catharsis of the mind. No friends, no music, just a frenzied mind and blank acres of land to dispose of it all. He was suddenly snapped back into reality when he hears the rustling of paper.

Still prone on the ground, he turns to his left and picks up the same paper plane that he had just thrown, eyeing it curiously. That's not supposed to happen, he thought. He fingers the makeshift flaps on the wing of the plane, two straight cuts separated by a minute gap, where the bit of paper in between is then deftly sloped downward or upward, according to the pilot, of course.

"Your flaps are good, but you should take more care in folding the paper. It's not gonna glide smoothly if it's all unbalanced, you know."

Matthew flipped onto his back in reply. The flaps were adjusted to counter the imbalance. Unsuccessfully it seems, thought Matt. He wasn't expecting another person to be around, not at this time of night, and certainly not of the opposite gender. He holds the paper plane up above his face, and imitated its gliding motion against the backdrop of the night sky.

"Thanks, I guess."

Matt could hear the shuffling of feet against the grass as she comes up beside him stoops down.

"Is this seat taken? I'll just leave if you wanna be alone, I mean, no one goes here expecting company anyway."

"Nah, stick around if you want to. I just wanted to get away from all that." Matt points toward the city skyline, a brilliant mosaic of light and noise, now a distant glow from the fields.

He sits up, propping his back on two arms as the girl settles down an awkward distance away beside him, hugging her two legs and resting her head on her knees.

"So what brought you here?"

It was only now that Matt had the chance to see her, or what he could see of her, for she had her dark hair resting on her right, Matt's left, concealing all but pale skin as she stared on into the distance.

It was only when she turned to answer that he could see a pair of earnest eyes that could've been any shade of dark, accompanied with little wrinkles around them that Matt assumed were from years of spectacle use. Matt took to great heights trying not to stare for too long.

"I erm, had a bit of argument back home and wanted to walk it off."

Even now, against the scarce moonlight, she radiated a certain air about herself, one of discreet beauty and perennial insecurity. And Matt knew.

"I'm Natalie, by the way."

Matt's watch disrupts the silent air, beeping out an alarm. The analog face showed 12:10, the tritium on the hands glowing bright.

"Matt. I'd love to stay but I've got to go. It's nice meeting you, Natalie, or Nat, if I can call you that."

"Sure, Matt." Natalie could only offer a weak smile as Matt replies with a taut grin.

Matt picks himself up and walks away due south. Natalie was doleful as she is, again, left in seclusion. She has always been reluctant to embrace company although she was desperate for it. She hugs her legs tighter, ruing her insecurity.

Her attention then turns to a small projectile that had hit her in the back, which didn't hurt in itself but was surprising enough to jolt her out of her overthinking.

Picking up the paper plane Matt had brought with him earlier, she could make out the faint scribble of a note on the paper wings and let out a stifled giggle. Written on it was, "I'll be back here tomorrow. Take care Nat."

Natalie let out a sigh, relieved that she had herself a second chance, and stretched her long legs out, glancing up at the moon. I've gotta be here tomorrow, she thought.

Yellowcard - A Vicious Kind

Flashback

   "Might I remind you that you're a fully grown adolescent messing around with a Matchbox Aston Martin?"

"It's an engineering masterpiece, Danny. It looks stunning too!"

"it's a scaled down model toy car, dude."

"I don't have a driving license to drive the real thing."

Matthew Callahan continued appreciating the beauty of the DB3, once a British sports car and regular racer at the now defunct racetrack they were on, the Thomson Road Circuit, a famous venue in the racing scene back in the sixties. Along with him was Daniel Rose, a close friend of Matthew. The perennial summer afternoon had been damped by a shower of rain in the morning, and the flora surrounding the road was a brilliant green, the road itself shaded by huge trees, casting a shadow over the two peeps. Time has eroded the famous race track to a kind of lengthy, winding tarmac a rally driver would enjoy, and the kind of beautiful scenery Matt and Danny would gladly bask in.

"So this place used to be a racetrack?" Daniel walked beside Matthew, kicking up loose gravel. 

"Yeap. Racing back then was pretty different than what it is now though. Too controlled." Matthew heaved a sigh before having one last look at the toy. He keeps the car deep in his left breast pocket.

As a budding photographer, Daniel didn't mind tagging along in Matt's adventures exploring obsolete places with amazing environments. Matt would have a companion to express another side of the reserved character that is Matthew Callahan, and Danny would have another collage of pictures to show off, complete with the unwilling model, when Matt was having his brighter days.

But despite the generous amount of time spent together, Matt was still wary of regarding Daniel anymore than an acquaintance, and Daniel was already content with what little camaraderie they had, the picture gallery he had seemed to him like a bargain.
 

"Spare me the history lesson, old man. I'll be short of a few albums when you finally leave for Cambridge."

"Yeah, it's been fun being used. I'll miss you there, man." Matthew was amused with Danny's frankness.

"Of course you will, more than your family and friends, Matt. How are you gonna cope out there man?" Matthew wasn't sure, but he might have just felt a hint of genuine concern from little Danny Rose.

"I don't know, dude; I'll manage though. How about your photography exploits?" Matt was eager to change the subject. Danny had a mouth as loose as his baggy trousers.

"I'll pull through. I could use a time warp to the present and go for the current attractions. Damn if I miss the pristine nature though."

They came to an ancient concrete bench, braving the test of time. Daniel continued snapping shots from his DSLR while Matt sat down, taking a long swig of water from a bottle, meanwhile picturing a life-scale version of his toy car whizzing past in traditional British racing colours, a deep shade of green.

"So you leave tomorrow, right? Maybe I can see you off, you know, for old times' sake." Daniel was asking between snapshots.

"Yeah, not really. I leave in the wee hours of the morning, man. This is the last time you'll be seeing Matty Cally before he leaves."

"Really." Daniel didn't flinch. The photographer was hiding behind his camera, and Matt knew it.

"Look, it's been really been brilliant going on these adventures and having you around, man. I know we're not brothers or whatever, but I wanted you to know it's been a ton of fun. So thanks, man."

Danny sighed and let the camera down from his eyes. He takes a seat beside Matt on the bench and relaxes, stretching his hands on the old concrete, while Matthew sits hunched, resting his head on his hands.

"Relax dude. I know we haven't been on the best of terms but I understand where you're coming from. Thank you too, for all this you know. We've been through lots of shit, but it was some pretty good shit, man."

Matt and Danny heartily laughed it off, before reaffirming their friendship with a bump of the fists. The two guys may be on different terms, but in the end, all that matters will be the knowledge that your buddy has your back, as you do his.

Lostprophets - Better Off Dead