Friday, February 24


I didn't attend it. Ah! Hell. Low.... folks. =)

Farewell... the last of school.... blah! I didn't attend it. I had better plans. I had a trip. I enjoyed (much more than what I would at school. So. This is what I wanted to say at the farewell (but didn't say, because I wasn't there).

Good morrow to the Principal, Vice Principal, School In-charges, Teachers, and my friends, this is it! No, not the greatest tour by Michael Jackson, and none of my terrible jokes, but our farewell. I believe that nothing can be a better lesson for ones’ life as discovering ones’ own philosophy. It’s like this one set of values which will be the roof over head no matter how hard the rain falls. Of course, we all need to stand strong in this big hard world, because what they will tell us time and time again, “shut up and sit down,” and if you’re lucky, “get down to business”. You will eventually realize that all the fairy tales were the protection we grew under, and the illusions we fostered in dream. The writers of these fairy tales were overgrown children, but they had lost the protection. I daresay none of them is an illusion. Especially not “A Picture from the Ramparts,” by Hans Christian Andersen. If I might get some attention, may I begin?

"It is autumn, and we are standing on the ramparts round the citadel, looking at ships sailing on the Sound and at the opposite coast of Sweden which stands out clearly in the evening sunlight. Behind us the ramparts fall far away steeply; around are stately trees from which the golden leaves are falling fast. Down below us we see some dark and gloomy buildings, surrounded with wooden palisades, and inside these, where the sentries are walking up and down it is darker still, yet no so gloomy behind yon iron grating; that is where the worst convicts are confined. A ray from the setting sun falls into the bare room. The sun shines upon good and bad alike! The gloomy, savage prisoner looks bitterly at the chilly sunbeam. A little bird flutters against the grating. The bird sings to the good and bad alike! It twitters softly for a little while, and remains perched, flutters its wings, picks a feather from its breast, and puffs its plumage up. The bad man in chains looks at it; a milder expression steals over his hideous face. A thought which is not quite clear to him steals into his heart; it is related to the sunshine coming through the grating, related to the scent of violets, which in spring grow so thickly outside the window. Now is heard the music of a huntsman’s horn clear and lively, the bird flies away from the grating and the sunbeam disappears, and all is dark again in the narrow cell, dark in the heart of the bad man. Yet the sun has shone into it, and the bird has sung its song.

Continue ye merry notes! The evening is mild; the sea is calm and bright as any mirror."

For some time, I fostered this belief, that we all are mirrors. We give to others and we get from them. But with time, and maybe through this extremely short story, we eventually realize that the process is vice versa. The meaning of all that has been said is still unclear, but what is clear, is the fact that we all will be someone before somebody. Love and cheers and best wishes for the future that awaits us!

Anyway. All the best for the boards, everyone! Let's hope we all do well.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Open to criticism...