(By the time you read this, I will be on my way to Uganda, so I scheduled it to fit.)
“First of all, I would like to thank you, the reader. It’s a necessity of all language to be heard; nobody would say anything if they knew they were not going to be heard. In the same way, there would be no point in producing a magazine if there was not an audience to read it. So, thank you!”
I got the school magazine this week, of which I was the editor and had a couple of featured articles. *cough* With all I’m doing, I’ve not had the chance to look through it entirely, but I did notice where I had made my mark, for once. It was a bit weird, actually, having my name in so many places throughout the magazine – more, in fact, than the Head Girl.
Whilst this may not be considered any big success – and rather shows that I should stick to fictional prose and factual theories, rather than journalism! – I’m proud of having, and giving, something from my school career of seven years, worthwhile and solid. Now that the photograph of me in Year Seven (first year) as a sprite in The Tempest has been removed from the Drama Studio walls, there is very little as a sign of what I was.
What I find weird about leaving, on one hand, is that people – mainly staff – keep asking me if I enjoyed my time there. With little evidence of my existence in the school remains, I’m rather obliged to say ‘yes’, aren’t I?
Not that I would say no of my own accord in the big picture – and I’m a fan of the bigger picture. But…in the little things, there are many regrets and agonies and wishes that I had never set foot on that Abingdon earth.
Then again, I guess I’m being focused on my own time and my own self. I made so many friends and life moments in school, just as is meant to happen. A good friend of mine says things are meant to happen for a reason. Only now do I really see that – as retrospect is shining. If I had never chosen the school I had, I daren’t think what might have happened to me. Certainly, I would never have met and witnessed the inspiration for OJAP, and, disregarding that, would never have come across other pieces, however sparse, of inspiration for my other works. One of my favourite novels, Triangle, would certainly have never come into being – nor would my impression and opinion of the ideas in the book.
In that way, I thank God that I chose, as selfishly arbitrary as it was (“It has a swimming pool!”), that school over my other options. Who can really say what time would have done otherwise?
In case you hadn’t realised: my word of the week is EBULLIENT, with its crisp, French-based construct of morphemes. Before that, it comes from the Latin (yay!) adjective/participle ‘bulliens’, boiling, from the third declension verb of the same root. The ‘e’ simply denotes ‘out of’ or ‘extremely’.