Day One

Let me remind you that this is going to be about the Day One in my regular, daily high school instead of the Day One in the boarding school. 

Have I told you I will try as much as I can to avoid using real names inside this blog? Well, if I haven't, that's it. I feel like it's going to be more personal if I don't include real-life people in this subconscious writing of mine. Well, I never really thought to write about my life, but I figure that I have so much to say and blogging seems like the perfect way.

So let me start off by my urge to get out of the boarding school when I was there. I can't really call it as homesickness, really, since the whole issue was because I couldn't get my head right in the class. I felt asleep in whole classes and preparation classes while I was there and the teachers seemed to be fine about it. My sister, who'd stayed in boarding school for five years straight, claimed that it is a normality for boarding school people to fall asleep in class. But to me, falling asleep in class, which had never happened to me before, is a self-apocalyptic tragedy. Caught in the aftershock, I insisted on having my normal routine again and that led me to get out of the school.

I sneaked out silently without my friends knowing--well, more about this later. But lately, when I was about to go back and returned, it felt like it would be great if I gave myself more time there and it wouldn't be as complicated as it is now. Now, the previous sentence is the main topic of this entry, but you need more patience because I need to get more words out of my head. More on the way. 

Why is it complicated? Here's about my Day One, after getting out of the boarding school and return to my daily school.

I've stayed in Form 4 of my daily school for almost a month before I went to the all-boys boarding school. So in a month, the teachers had taught many hard lessons swiftly, which was a problem so that's why I decided to take the boarding school offer, with hope that the teachers there would teach me from A leading to Z. That happened, fortunately. But on the unfortunate part, that's it: I fell asleep in classes. And boarding school teachers, sorry to say, can be a bunch of heartless fuckers. Well, I don't curse them in a bad way, but they don't wake you up when you fall asleep, and they go through lessons in a speed of light. So I am nothing but miss, miss, miss. Almost crying due to this tragedy, I have vowed to return back to my normal school. 

But then on Day One, I realized that they're all ahead of me. Two weeks in the boarding school my normal school friends have learned a lot. Especially in Calculus, also known as Additional Mathematics, or I shall call, a Heartless, Selfish Bitch Raised in Irrelevant Cruelty in Damaging Students' Life. So it was hard. In Biology, they handed out their Practical Forms already, and I did nothing. But here's the main point of the whole day.

I was an invisible alien. The teacher was sorry to say this to me, but this is a piece of truth that crushes my heart every single time I recall it. Mom says it's temporary until the letter that says I'm officially out of the boarding school arrives. But until then, my class teacher confesses that she doesn't know what to do with me. She lets me sit in my old class alright, but I was not going to be an important piece there. Feels like I was in an Invisibility Cloak, yes. Only if I was really, literally invisible, that would be perfect.

I was so emotional. My good mood was completely drained out of my body, and all I wanted to do was to turn back the hands of time and would never, ever entertain myself when I was crying from the inside to get out of the boarding school. I mean, hey, I wanted to go out because the teachers don't teach well. Fuck off, right? Am I the studying type? No. Am I Hermione Granger? No. I can just stay in the school and fool around, stalking them boys, do stupid things and stop giving a fuck about my failing grades. It should be better. My parents wouldn't know if I study or not since I'm not under their guards. 

To conclude, human is always unappreciative. I was thinking different thoughts when I wanted to get out from the boarding school, now I have different thinking. I think I hate myself.

So a girl really wanted to know how was life in boarding school. I exposed out the truth; I told her life there wasn't for me if I wanted to be the studying type. But you have to be the studying type to pass upper-form exams. So I told her that. But I also told her that not everyone could die (not literally) in boarding school. Most part of them is a survivor. She applied somewhere, though--I wished her good luck and she kept asking me how it was there. And so I told her.

And oh I was storytelling her during a fire practice. Nice one--a fire practice on your first day of school after you get out of a boarding school.

Then the day went as the teachers gave me their shocking looks of me returning back. "Why ARE YOU HERE?!" my Chemistry teacher had exclaimed, which I didn't mind much. My religious studies teacher seemed like she's supportive, but so far THERE'S NO ONE that can say, "You know what, it's okay! Staying here's better! It's good to have you back!"

My Day One starts with my class teacher saying that she didn't know what to do with me until the letter came, meeting my Physics teacher for the first time since she was on maternity leave during the one-month period I was at school, avoiding people to not confronting and hearing the same, lame questions, explaining a girl how's life in boarding school during a fire practice and hearing a shocking shout from my Chemistry teacher. 

Tomorrow, I don't feel like continuing Day 2. 

I'm tired. I'm an alien, am I not? I can choose to be or not to be at school...

 ...until the letter comes.


Letter bitch please come faster.

Sincerely,
I

 

INTRODUCTION - In and Out of Boarding School

On some date that I've forgotten, I've miraculously received an offer letter to a boarding school. And somehow after all my life sitting down alone chanting that I would never, ever be a boarding schoolboy, I accepted the offer.

So, on January 29th, which was my father's 55th birthday, there was me, on my first day there. Look, now I can't call the identity of the all-boys school I was in that I am deadly trying to hide's a secrecy because someone knows about it already, but I'm not going to tell you about it here. Let it pass, because, let's face it, I don't want to offend anybody. 

I would really want to share you my experience there, but here's what I'm going to tell you: I do not survive. After Week Two, I figure that I am not meant for a boarding school life. So out of the blue, my parents helped me out of the school, and it was like breathing air in. Very effortless, really, I am no longer a boarding schoolboy (is that an official noun--boarding schoolboy?) So yeah, I regret nothing since I found that the boarding school experience precious, but I'm not going detail about it. It may appear in the lines of flashbacks or recaps I've done in this blog, if I am able to continue it. 

So here's the thing about this blog; it was about me dealing with the aftermath of ricocheting on and off  from my old, non-boarding school. I bet this is going to be a hard life and I need a blog to help me out. I need help, really.

You might be one of my friends, and you might be some blogwalking stranger, it doesn't matter. My words are really for me, but it's nice to see if you read along.

So, on Day One of this project, I've officially written the Introduction of this blog! Way to go!

Wish me luck!

Sincerely,
I