(Equilibrium is such a fancy word)
It’s been a little over a year since I went for camp. And I know that a lot of my friends just got back from camps this summer and wonderful, newly-made memories are still fresh in their minds and they couldn’t care less about T1 2015 anymore, not when all they want right now is to rewind their lives by a couple of weeks and relive it all. Rewind, relive, rewind, relive. Like I’d love to, by a year. Maybe I’m a little jealous because I couldn’t go this year. Maybe I’m a little apprehensive about finally going to school again later this week, super excited to meet my friends after so long, only to find them fully engaged in exclusive conversations about camp, laughing at recollections and inside jokes I’ll never be a part of and mourning exaggeratedly because it’s all over. Heck, I’d have done the same, had I gone too. Because I love, loved camp and in fact..
10th to 11th grade feels like a huge jump already and school hasn’t even started yet. The fact that I’ve decided to go for Medicine doesn’t help.
Suddenly, I’m supposed to plan everything I do and well, actually do it. A Daily Calendar decides for me when I take a shower, study, eat, exercise, study, read, study, write, play the piano, study etc. I know it’s really going to benefit me but I hate how necessary it is because.. I hate it. I hate how it changes so much. There’s scores of sites you can find telling you how you should develop a strict routine and why it’s best to follow it and I agree with them completely, but it can all get a little frustrating sometimes. So while this post will majorly comprise me ranting about my daily plan, know that I still attempt to follow it willingly because I’m aware of its advantages.
Listening to a person who’s angry with someone else secretly scares me. Sometimes, the things people say about others in a moment of rage are so severe, their reactions so violent and aggressive, it frightens me! No matter who it is. It’s scary because then I wonder- what do they say when they’re angry with me? How extreme are some people about me, because I know I’ve really pissed off some people big time?
I don’t keep myself busy enough, I think. And that’s why I think. Over-think.
In between cramming useless dates relevant to an English poet named Lord Byron who went to war and later died of a fever (1824), and calculating how many trees Grades I to XII of some school planted, I do take a break. I look around the same room I’ve been looking at for over 8 years now (okay, not the same, my mum did renovate in 2011) and maybe think things I’ve thought often before and maybe realize the dullest of facts.