school, week 11

Six assignments in the past ten days: five essays and one insane oral presentation (15 minutes long, no looking at your script) on an analysis of Shackles (an annoying book on the first read, but awesome once you analyse it).

How long has it been? Orientation began in early July 2013. I can't believe a whole academic year is coming to an end - I waited so long for this wonderful college to begin, and now it's already slipping through my fingers. Every day I hold regrets: regrets at just not being able to focus in class and gaining nothing out of it; regrets at not finishing my readings; regrets about procrastinating. Regrets about not knowing particular people better - this happens almost every day, because I pass by so many wonderful people in this school and there are just so many of them I wish I could hang out and chat with. I should make more of an effort to do that, mm.

And yet there are people I feel like I've known forever: people like Dylan, Kevin and Ami whom I feel so comfortable with, whom I treat like family; people like Sau and Xi Min, just so free in our chats. I've known the Round 0 EYW people for almost two full years - 23 whole months - and school itself only started 10 months ago. More than twice the duration. We hung out regularly for more than a whole year before school started. I'm so thankful to have worked at the Admissions Office so early on, to have been so close to the school and its people right from the beginning.

I see faces in the lift and kitchen and I feel so much warmth for the people here, so much a sense of family, of comfort. You wave to your schoolmates as they pass by you; you ask them how their summer plans are going along, whether they managed to finish that essay last night. In lectures, you don't need to look at who's asking a question to know who it is; you can tell by their voice. At night, you can tell who's in whose room by the slippers they left outside.

(The entire student body fits into a fraction of a courtyard.)

I'm honestly a little apprehensive about the new batch, about sharing my school with a whole new cohort. Suddenly we won't know everybody anymore. Suddenly you'll see an unfamiliar face wearing the name of your home across their chest, and you'll be confused.

I hope, more than anything, that the spirit of love, enthusiasm and encouragement will only continue. This school has taught me to be much more loving, and I want to embody and convey that spirit. Crescent was a school of unity, and ACJC was of fiery passion; this is a college of hugs, support and gifts at your door,  of all-out surprises, of phrases like "you're such a beautiful person" and "you're so talented" used so often it's become cliché (but never worthless, never worthless).