It's currently 1 a.m. and I'm awake, listening to The Cool Kids, which obviously means that I will have to fall asleep during double Economics tomorrow, which is a pity because I really enjoy Eco classes.
There is a tradition, however, in my class, that every student has to blow off at least one Eco class to go and play volleyball, and if he/she fails to do so, he/she will be shunned by other students, and everybody will get to hit that person with a brick. I might have altered a few details, but you get the main idea.
The other day, I promised myself that I would bunk Eco, to prove myself to others. I made a very long plan, about how I would slip out and go and sleep in one of the slides in the playground. It was tempting. The sun was out, I could even get a good sunbathing session out of it, which is of course, the dream (probably not the one that Martin Luther King Jr. talked about though).
Naturally, I chickened out. This was the not my first time chickening out. I'm actually pretty much of a self taught expert in that field.
There was this time, years ago. I must've been in grade eight. I'd taken part in our school's adventure camp, in which, I realized a moment too late, everybody was younger than me. Anyway, there was this zip lining thing that everybody was doing, where basically there was a zip line running from the school's balcony till the field below. All these puny little kids were doing it, so being the courageous pterodactyl like daredevil that I am, I decided to give it a whirl. I was all strapped down, and made to wear these millions of safety chords and stuff, and when I finally went to the balcony with a sick smile plastered on my face, I looked down.
Bad move.
My body chose that moment to decide that it was scared of heights. Not when I was seven, and I rode that horribly awesome rollercoaster all alone. Not when I went bungee jumping a hundred times. No sir.
I had already climbed over the balcony, so I literally only had to like go down now. I should have told myself to calm down, maybe hummed the Pokémon theme song for self motivation.
What I did instead was, well, I started to cry. Very loudly, in front of my juniors. And seniors. And the staff.
I was too scared to move and one of the supervisors had to come rescue me.
Needless to say, they didn't set up a camp at our school again, and I wasn't exactly heart broken about it.
Moving on. A lot of people said that the previous post was too negative, and I don't love my country, which is so NOT true (read in the voice of Chandler Bing). I will prove this by telling you what happened today.
Today was, of course, our 68th Independence Day, in the honour of which our school had put up a very touching play, depicting the different stages of our country's struggle for independence.
I will be lying if I say that a few tears did not slide down my cheeks, only to fall down to the ground, the very ground that may have soaked up the blood of our freedom fighters.
(And these tears had nothing to do with the fact that the school canteen has replaced Pepsi with fruit juice.)
What can I say. Kapoorni puts the 'K' in patriotism.
There is a tradition, however, in my class, that every student has to blow off at least one Eco class to go and play volleyball, and if he/she fails to do so, he/she will be shunned by other students, and everybody will get to hit that person with a brick. I might have altered a few details, but you get the main idea.
The other day, I promised myself that I would bunk Eco, to prove myself to others. I made a very long plan, about how I would slip out and go and sleep in one of the slides in the playground. It was tempting. The sun was out, I could even get a good sunbathing session out of it, which is of course, the dream (probably not the one that Martin Luther King Jr. talked about though).
Naturally, I chickened out. This was the not my first time chickening out. I'm actually pretty much of a self taught expert in that field.
There was this time, years ago. I must've been in grade eight. I'd taken part in our school's adventure camp, in which, I realized a moment too late, everybody was younger than me. Anyway, there was this zip lining thing that everybody was doing, where basically there was a zip line running from the school's balcony till the field below. All these puny little kids were doing it, so being the courageous pterodactyl like daredevil that I am, I decided to give it a whirl. I was all strapped down, and made to wear these millions of safety chords and stuff, and when I finally went to the balcony with a sick smile plastered on my face, I looked down.
Bad move.
My body chose that moment to decide that it was scared of heights. Not when I was seven, and I rode that horribly awesome rollercoaster all alone. Not when I went bungee jumping a hundred times. No sir.
I had already climbed over the balcony, so I literally only had to like go down now. I should have told myself to calm down, maybe hummed the Pokémon theme song for self motivation.
What I did instead was, well, I started to cry. Very loudly, in front of my juniors. And seniors. And the staff.
I was too scared to move and one of the supervisors had to come rescue me.
Needless to say, they didn't set up a camp at our school again, and I wasn't exactly heart broken about it.
Moving on. A lot of people said that the previous post was too negative, and I don't love my country, which is so NOT true (read in the voice of Chandler Bing). I will prove this by telling you what happened today.
Today was, of course, our 68th Independence Day, in the honour of which our school had put up a very touching play, depicting the different stages of our country's struggle for independence.
I will be lying if I say that a few tears did not slide down my cheeks, only to fall down to the ground, the very ground that may have soaked up the blood of our freedom fighters.
(And these tears had nothing to do with the fact that the school canteen has replaced Pepsi with fruit juice.)
What can I say. Kapoorni puts the 'K' in patriotism.
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