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SUP GUYS its chandrew & wangdrew. wangdrew & chandrew. starting year12 in 3days. i guess we will blog more about our year12 worries &
how life sucks and how lucky everyone is compared to us. LOL. btw if you're wondering how to nav the page, use the coloured post-it notes on the
right side of the notepad.
but yeah have fun wasting time reading :L and don't forget to comment in the cbox :D ---------------------------------------------------------------->
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Friday, June 25, 2010
Out of the corner of the boy's eye, a piece of paper, out of place on the dull gray carpet caught his attention. It appeared coarse and unloved; yellowing and crinkled around the edges. Maybe during an economics lesson not two days ago (or even perhaps a geography lesson not two periods back), it was discarded by the hands of a junior not so much different from himself. Though these hands were younger, more naive. Reaching for it, the shape and the familiar imprint the ink made from the other side reminded the boy of recesses spent in the quad wearing a sandwich board. Of empty promises and selfish, grabbing hands. Of hours labored into the early morning and of hours wasted and foregone. Dying to turn the piece of paper to reveal the words scrawled on it, the boy's heart throbbed and his hands trembled. Finally, flipping the paper in a flourish of anxiety the boy's fears were realised as he saw his own image and rainbow handwriting scrawled over the campaign poster. All too suddenly he felt the blood rush to his throat, and the weight of his non-existent student leader badge felt heavier than it had ever before.
posted by wangster 9:17 PM
Friday, June 25, 2010
Out of the corner of the boy's eye, a piece of paper, out of place on the dull gray carpet caught his attention. It appeared coarse and unloved; yellowing and crinkled around the edges. Maybe during an economics lesson not two days ago (or even perhaps a geography lesson not two periods back), it was discarded by the hands of a junior not so much different from himself. Though these hands were younger, more naive. Reaching for it, the shape and the familiar imprint the ink made from the other side reminded the boy of recesses spent in the quad wearing a sandwich board. Of empty promises and selfish, grabbing hands. Of hours labored into the early morning and of hours wasted and foregone. Dying to turn the piece of paper to reveal the words scrawled on it, the boy's heart throbbed and his hands trembled. Finally, flipping the paper in a flourish of anxiety the boy's fears were realised as he saw his own image and rainbow handwriting scrawled over the campaign poster. All too suddenly he felt the blood rush to his throat, and the weight of his non-existent student leader badge felt heavier than it had ever before.
Anything you want here. Your photo albums, portfolio of designs, photo slideshows.
The "gallery" blogtitle is up for you to change, personalise it to suit you :)
