’The first few days are always tiring’. Someone said. But it’s been more than that now, and we are all still so tired. Sliding into the same old seats in different classrooms, and trying to keep from falling asleep. Trying to think of new topics to discuss. What used to be a joy is now just mere text. Too detached to inject emotion into it anymore. Waves and wind of blue, white and navy blue weaving through the white and green tapestry, only it is not quite as enjoyable as it was before.

I have just spent a week in school surrounded by a group of bleary-eyed, droopy-headed and exhausted schoolmates. And this is the first week of Secondary Three. It makes me wonder what state we’ll all be in at the end of this year!

Actually, not much has changed. We just have different teachers and more responsibilities, to put it candidly and simply. But, well, I have asked this many times over the course of the week; is it just me, or does Secondary Three take more out of you than Secondary Two? Or does it just take time getting used to? I wonder if we’ll ever get used to it. One teacher of mine mentioned that it was only Monday and we all looked incredibly tired. She also added that she did not need our carcasses in class and pondered over what we would look like by Friday. Of course, she was joking, but it made me wonder too.

Outwardly, truly, nothing much has changed. New teachers, new class, new books. It’s all standard. It’s what we all get every year, but no one I have talked to remembers feeling this tired during their first week in Secondary Two. Strange. It’s easy to visualise an invisible vacuum secretly sucking our energy up; it creates a pretty funny mental image too.

There are quite a few new courses to sign up for, such as the Creative Arts Programme, the Poetry Mentorship, and if you are good enough, the Peer Mentoring, as well as numerous other activities and new CCAs. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why everyone is so exhausted. Personally, I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time during recess waiting for a teacher to put in an appearance. And I am staying back nearly every day for something other than school work, which I am sure many of my schoolmates are also doing. At the rate we’re all going, we might as well live in SCGS!

I can hardly snatch aside time these days to take a peek outside to look at the sky, and photo-taking cannot be carried out either, because by the time I get back, it is too dark. That is also one of the reasons why I am writing about my first week at school as a Secondary Three student- for the lack of anything better to write about. I have not been observing the people or my new surroundings, neither have I been able to put my emotions into words or write any prose. Or poetry, for that matter. I seem to have met with a rather high and thick mental block!

These days, I remember everything in a blur of colours. I remember floaty blue waves and masses moving from class to class, like an army of ants moving in an out of various tunnels in their nest. I remember brightly coloured bags, obviously new and swirls of hot pink and lime green on pencil cases. I remember teachers in interesting outfits and blocks of white interspersed with green sliding past my eyes as I look through the classes in the morning. I remember even rectangles of white or blue or navy blue, like the sea, as we whisper the national anthem, as is our usual routine. I remember grey stairs and meeting people on those stairs, and whiffs of perfume or people’s scents as they slide past me, in a rush, like I am. I remember melodious, serene blues and sapphires as my music finally makes some sense to the world, and the patient pale tones of the piano beside me. I remember whirring fans and shouts of badminton players.

But, I realise, I do not actually remember what I feel.

And that is a rather frightening thought.

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