High school is an enigma.
In one sense, we live to study. We are living for one single purpose; a number, at the end of it, to tell you whether you're alright or just trash. At the end of every year, I throw away most of my hard work; my notes, my worksheets, the handouts. They mean nothing. It's another year of wasted work.
That's not to say that I don't value my academic career and achievements, but we're living in a vacuum. There is more to life than this, and I feel like something is being postponed, held back. Can't we do it both? Can't we plan for the future but live in the moment?
Do I even know anyone at school? School twists our characters and our personalities so much that maybe all I know are distortions. I know the people who only know me at school don't know me, not really. And the people who do know me, mostly pretend not to.
One day I will be an old woman. I hope I don't look upon this time as the wasted years.