i think i'm gonna miss school

i think i'm gonna miss school

People have been telling me that I will miss school when I leave. To be honest, I've never believed them. I thought I've had enough of school over 16 years - the endless deadlines, the enormous piles of readings, the mad rush to get to class on time, the ridiculous school rules that I never understood, the loss of weekends to mugging sessions and the list goes on. I was right. Those thing I've had enough of, that I'm pretty sure.

But there are a thousand other things that are not quite school but share a close enough affinity for me to say, I think I'm gonna miss school.

Things like inspiration. School inspires me. I read a line of immensely profound thought, put into words by a man from hundreds of years ago, and find myself wondering for hours. It's as if my brain had gone on a spontaneous adventure.

Spontaneity. That too. The long hours between and after classes. Reading, swimming, talking, napping, shopping, eating, dreaming. You could do anything. The time is yours and yours alone. Share it with whoever you want. Steal a kiss in a secret hideout. Cry your heart out in a lonely corner. Have an impromptu manicure session with your girlfriends. Stalk a new crush.

Or better still, take a day off school. Play truant and be a rebel. Hold hands and smile at the reflection of your unintended couple wear. School uniforms have never been this sexy. Fear the consequence and laugh off the punishments, feeling like heroes and heroines afterwards. Break the rules because the worst that can happen to you is detention.

You'd meet all the cool people at detention. The ones who are like you, who don't give a flying fuck about establishment. That's how the most precious friendships are born, isn't it? Meeting people who are exactly like you at the most unlikely of places. Practising the awkward pronunciation of bonjour at French class. Trying to find a new classroom in an unfamiliar building. Figuring out how to use the library card.

When you've got that sorted out, you'll spend mornings, afternoons and nights sitting in the library, poring over words that make absolutely no sense. The thrill of figuring it out. The pride in speaking of postmodernity as if it's the latest fashion. The joy of rolling your tongue over je suis une etoile. The victory of A+. The intellectual challenge.

And then between essays and exams, we become our own persons. So much of our days spent in school, conforming, resisting, disintegrating, growing, failing, learning, questioning, living. It must have meant something. For me, it was rebirth. A thousand times over.

And now, it's the real world. No second chances. No detentions. Will I make it? I will. School has taught me well. Metamorphosize yet again. Rebirth.