by Noah Everard, Year 13 Student, Kaipara College
When I don’t know what to write about, I write about not knowing what to write about. Paradoxical or pretentious? That is the question. A question which I was unable to answer during my 12 odd years of education. School is finished, my uniform handed in, my textbooks recycled and my chin held high. They say that when one door closes another opens. But this is different. Finishing school is not like closing a door. It’s stepping out of the structure, which once dictated your entire life and youthful experience, and letting it crumble behind you. There are fewer walls that now block my freedom. Perhaps now it is only the unseeable leviathan of capitalism that keeps me within sharp claws. But that is a problem for another day. At this moment, I no longer answer for an institution. However, in a few months time I have willingly decided to crawl back over the rubble of schoolhood to pursue tertiary education. A friend once said to me that the primary reason he is going to university is to, “prolong the horrors of real-life” and the more I look around thinking of stuff to do, the more I agree. Who wants all this free time? Not me.
I will only briefly mention exams, due to their monotonous nature. It was long, tiresome and tedious. Moments of ecstasy would occur during the test, when you realise you knew what to do. But otherwise it was like piloting a sinking ship, where you couldn’t wait to go overboard and indulge in summer.
Yes I said it. That insatiable word… Summer, I have a feeling that you’re gonna be a hot one. Too hot? I doubt it. Slap on some 30 SPF sunscreen and get a tan. But it’s not all fun and games, no, no, no. As sunny days come rolling in, so do the summer jobs. Every human between the ages of 18 to 15 scramble about in search of money. In search of an institution which they can pledge a third of their week to. Greenhouses, shelf stacking, life guard and farm work. These are the skillful trades of a summertime teenager, whose only wish is to buy gas for the week and drinks for the weekend.
What a life. Full of options. Who knows what I’ll get up to. Might go for a fish, could travel to the beach or even just sit in the sun and think of how burnt the top of my head will be.
