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Eighteen, Start again.

Friends, dots on one timeline,
Friends of the old and the present.
Can only say words and loving greetings of cheer.
Even as some, like me, we go through hell. Words that are typed, then sent, across space and time to this time of day, to wish me. Wishes are such fragile things, they are nothing, yet they are of value.
Symbols of friendship, good intentions and niceties. To wish me on a day when I am disappointed and ashamed.
They do not lift me as much as I would've have hoped, but I thank them any way. Today is a good day.
I fear the worst, perhaps guilt as well, focusing only on the end. The journey of life, the end of mine, that is what I look up towards. Not to this paper and pen they thrust before me.

Nevertheless: the less of the A levels, the less of worldly accolades, awards and achievements. A, A, A, A.
Born to study, born to excel, born to think, to write, to score above and beyond. Born on the 4th, to chase something.
I am resolved to chase something greater, of which I do not fully understand the end, but I do know the journey: to have a fiery heart, have the chutzpah, brazen and bold, unmitigated fearlessness, to maintain an absolute passion, like a perfect being.
Unrealistic and unattainable, as life is anfractuous in all its obstacles. Yet we , we as people, humans, thinkers of a collective generation believe and follow this goal. To be better and to choose better.

November the 4th, 2012. Yet with all my knowledge and lessons I have learnt hitherto. All my literary knowledge that is vast to no one but myself, with this little bit of understanding I have, I long to go back to 1994. To live it all over again, to be perfect, to be infallible and never to be flawed by anything ever again.
Or to start over, afraid of nothing, for my attitude is sound, and my mindset strong. My journey continues.

Think. Love. Hope. And love again.

04/11/12

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