the happiest days of our lives

Posted: June 14, 2012 in Uncategorized
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Wandering around my old high school today, when the sun was setting and the school was practically deserted, I was struck by how small everything looked.

The quad, the centerpiece for socialization at Santa Cruz High, was hardly the vast and open expanse of concrete and chewed gum that I remembered it as. The main building, once a towering and immovable monolith, seemed so small that I could reach up and touch its roof. Even the little things– trees, railings, bike racks– all seemed smaller.

It seemed more compact. More decayed. More insignificant.

More… less.

I guess it’s a change in my priorities. When you’re in high school, high school is the MOST IMPORTANT THING EVAR RAAARGH. And I figure that there are two kinds of people who have left high school: those who know that it was a passing thing, and was really less significant than we thought it was, and those who fixate on high school, those who remember high school as some golden age, when the grass was greener and the light was brighter, the happiest days of their lives.

I’ve moved on, in a lot of ways. In a lot of ways, I don’t know who I was before college. At my age, you reinvent yourself every day, and how you saw yourself a month ago is hardly how you saw yourself now.

I looked at my old high school, the tiny, insignificant campus that you could walk across in five minutes, and I tried to remember who I was. And I couldn’t. I mean, I could intellectually, but I couldn’t emotionally. I can’t put myself in the shoes of that angry, weird dreamer that I was at the age of fifteen.

I do wish I could remember. And I was struck by the fact that I would one day, in five or ten or twenty years, forget who I am now, what kind of person I am.

Remember this, I told myself.

Remember. 

Remember.

Remember.

~ Ian

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