Weird, and ever so slightly disconcerting.

That's the only way I can think to describe it. That feeling I got after the empty library had filled up and we'd all been there for eight hours or so, the sense that something about this all was so odd:
the brilliant young people sitting and sitting and sitting for hours on end, maybe eating, maybe studying instead, just poring over books. No social interactions, except for the guilty pleasure visit to Facebook. Cramming their heads... Us cramming our heads, actually, with knowledge until we'd lost all sense of excitement at the intake of new information.
What was the point? Does this even help? Well, um, yes. Yes I suppose it does. Good marks and all that. But it was just so strange to see rows upon rows of students filling themselves up with book-knowledge - it was as if they were all lined up just so, positioned so the feeder tubes could pour in information, and they all hoped it would stay in there long enough to allow them to succeed in life, even if they forgot everything right after the exam.
I know this all sounds normal - this is university Christina. That's what we do with ourselves.

Yes yes, okay. I'll do it too.

It's just that, at the end of the day, I get the sense that a little bit of the interestingness and will to do something with myself has been sucked out of me. But that's okay right? Exams will be over soon.

All I can say is that I hope there's a very good motivation behind all of this.... A very good point to it indeed.

It was empty at the start. Kind of pretty and hopeful actually!

Knowledge regurgitation FTW.

The Closing of a Chapter, Part 2

The hallway is empty. Boxes are piled on the benches, filled garbage bags are slumped beside bins, and the lockers stand as sentinels, rid of their locks and all the important content from this year's learning.

I'm looking down the hall, and through a partially open door can see into the counselling centre, where teachers are walking around, sitting at their desks, putting last minute touches on this year's marks and report cards. I just finished my last exam, French, and it's all over now.

I feel so lonesome, and more bereft than I was expecting. I don't want this to end yet. I don't want to not be a student here... But then again, I do.

My locker is the only one still filled, with a flag of Québec, pictures from camp, and a little paper marked "nucleic acids" from a biology game first semester. There's piles of documents from organizing the Famine, an unused calculus textbook from last year's course, and my name tag from the Gospel Mission. A blue ball of sticky tack is still stuck in the locker... It was horrible quality.

There's a sinking, sick feeling in my stomach, and I can feel it creating a knot in my throat, but I don't want to cry yet - right now would be awfully inconvenient. I'm going to meet someone from McGill, who'll tell me all about the lovely things I can look forward to next year... I shouldn't be crying over the end of high school for that.

Well, my locker needs to be cleaned, and textbooks returned, in the next seven minutes. So... Goodbye.