Nostalgic hiatus.

Of course if I were to ask you to try remember your first day of kindergarten, you can't. Probably the haunting of wailing and crying made by your classmates.
My time was, everyone's in white shirt and pink shorts, and a pink boy tie. Yes, imagine every kid standing still and smiling, picture perfect. But no no. You go to school, your mum waves you off, sent you right in front of the door, where she hands you to the teacher. And you were led to your seat, where other anonymous face stare blankly at you. You look back, and there your mummy making small conversation with your one and only teacher. As you were about to turn back, some rather uncontrollable kid, started crying. And like domino's effect, another one started crying. And it followed through. Argh! The whole class is crying, including you. Comfort zone, you turn to look for your mum, and there she was, waving to you through the small metal window, plus some other kid's mother. It goes on and on...and the rest, I can't remember.

But going back to school wasn't like this when you're a grown up. You run thoughts in your mind, should I act cool, should I act like i'm not friendly, or should I simply be smiling, at everyone. You open the door, and it's very very tempting to just sink in and fade into the back of the class, more of at the back corner of the class. So no one would notice you. And you give in to temptation, unfortunately.
But as soon as you're settled, and here you are, lost in your own world, excited about the whole idea of you going back to school. It seems like only you and the lecturer existed, and, WHAM! Damn it, someone interrupted. You made a new friend, Wa Laa!
And the cycle goes on, until you have your own smoking buddies, your own click. Coolest group in the class. Yes, fashionably late, and bitchy. Comes the regular skipping of classes, hanging out for coffee and indulging in scones like some rich asses. You missed a whole lot of modules and classes and sadly, not as clever as everyone else, you fail. Hard reality bitch slap given to you. Ouch!

And the cycle repeats itself again, but somehow different. Now you're back repeating the same module, the same old books, the same old lecturer, but what's different, is the classmates. You decide not to make much new friends, you stayed focus this time round, and you see, the other kids around you, being so young and naive like you were before, laughing and talking and not listening. Skipping classes and eloping for every smoke break they could get. It sad, how I wish I could tell them MY story.