How glad is anyone to be a seventeen year old? To still believe good comes out from a broken heart like how wallflowers grow by the walls of an abandoned lawn,and to have exuberance and not need amalgamated alloy as an armor or bricks to build fort. I’m not glad,nor I even do have the slightest positive glimpse of shadow in my years adolescence to feel obligated to be glad.Now that I have graduated,I have put together all my expectations of achievements when I’m 17 since I was 12.However,they are pathetically crushed by the monarchy of the reality I live in.

Expectations: Having a boyfriend who walks you to class,offers to take your books even if you decline.

Reality: Having friends who have boyfriends who walk them to class,offer to take their books even if they decline and think”WHO NEEDS LOVE WHEN YOU CAN MINGLE AROUND AN OCEAN OF GUYS.”

Expectations:An ocean of guys.

Reality:The seabed as hollow and lonesome as a segull’s pectoralis major.

Expectations:Handling schoolwork like a champ and do and pass up everything in time.

Reality:Skinning my old exercise books and reuse it next year.And the next.And the next.

Expectations:Applying scholarships for college and have my schedule packed with interviews.

Reality:Missing the dateline of the scholarships application and just,well,fuck it.

Expectations:Have an excellent social life,and still get to be excellent in my studies.

Reality:Mediocre in my social life and pass with mediocre B+s and Cs

Expectations:Finally knowing what I want to do for a living and pursue it.

Reality:Feeling more confused than ever about what I want to be.

All I can say is,the best years I have hoped to have as an adolescent have ended up being a rather sad and mediocre one.However,I’m glad to have one scenario from my reality that surges above my expectations.Way,way above.

Expectations:Make some friends,I guess.

Reality:Made wonderful new friends and kept in touch with the old wonderful ones as well.

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Aside

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