[I'm doing this because the idea of having a Beginning (of this blog) that recollects the Ended Past seems like a very amusing thing to do.]

I am remembering what it was like at the start of this year.

This chunk of nostalgia takes root upon the yellow, varnished - and very dead - stage amidst dusty burgundy (in a similar setting I lay my last memories of secondary school), separate from and incongruent with the sweaty, dirt-green game of frisbee in the Hall (where I tripped into Orientation in JC). Watching familiar faces scrunch up focus, watching familiar backs leap in action and hunch in anticipation, disbelieving, all the time, how constant those small, ever-moving figures have become.

I've always prided myself on being socially adaptable and obliging, but SixOh presented me with a challenge. They were people I feared at first, didn't trust to make "the best years of my life", didn't think I could grow to like so soon. Faces too strange, then.

The strange, tall tanned boy with singularly single eyelids who put his arm around my shoulder on the very first day, whom I now know and stand by as Waihong.
The aloof girl in white who asked most bluntly for my number, and corrected everyone's pronunciation of her name (can't blame her!), in whom I've found an endearing confidante - Siobhan.
The boy whose hand I held tightly as we tried our hardest to climb the treacherous soapy slide fixed up for Orientation, the Nicest, now egging me to finish my bit of our group assignment - Geordie.
The Nanyang girl I couldn't place in memory, who held her head high, the one now synonymous with Sweet - mq.
The person I walked to the National Library with, whom I kept referring to as Zichong (and he didn't correct me!)- until the REAL Zichong fixed me - now Seng, who pretends to serenade me in the name of fun each day.
Billy - the tall athelete I noticed only for his sheer resemblance to my neighbour, the Admired, and the Can't-Get-Too-Much-Of.
Christopher, the first guy in class I danced with - and never saw again, for he skipped the rest of Orientation (maybe I was too bad at it) - now the key player of his frisbee team, almost teleporting to where action blossoms. Jinquan - the one I was initially unconfidant of talking to, now discovered to be a most satisfying conversationalist.

(I must admit Gaby's an anomaly: the open, frank, cheerful face, that still is the open, frank, cheerful face. <3)

And many many more.

I had my first impressions revisited, aquaintance reworked, relationships reconstructed.

"I like the class." I grinned at my companion who had been silent for the while. She returned it, patting her knees in the way of a comforted feline.
But a slightly unsettling feeling told me I couldn't be sure if that sentence articulated the pregnancy of the silence, or tried to fill it. I was remembering the shove he gave me on the frisbee grounds, the distaste I had for some of her actions, and hers, how hard it was -and still is- to talk to him, and the disappointment I was to him.

I watched one figure mark the other, two white and black shoes tracing the other frisky pair in a seeming tango that didn't need the rest. And I wonder, just what is there for me to like, in this amalgamation of little worlds in none I am a citizen of?

What is there not to like?

a completely pointless entry. :P

If you're visiting, leave a comment please, so I can gauge the readership of this new, and un-publicized place for the time being. (: thank you

I've finally let the social forces of the lj wave get to me - here I am, out of my decade-outdated (or so some claim) diaryland space. It began with needing an account for posting on the KI class' community blog (which I still haven't done), then toggling around with the various functions - IT expeditions I would have never taken upon myself (and now sorely regret) if it weren't for that obsessive-compulsive streak that refuses to allow my cyberspaces to be dominated by ugly default generators - and now, actually posting, to view my journal in Complete. I'm ready to admit that the Slippery Slope actually works.

This is but, however, Another Place for everything else. My loyalty - and less official reason: my lack of html expertise (think of all the code editing!) - prevents me from defecting just yet. 4 years of Resistance simply cannot decamp without a Revolution.