Today after 12 marks the end of our plight as a teenager. The time to become the young adult is near. Sadly I fail to fulfill this year's resolution. 'To live without regrets.' Unfortunately, I regretted as much as the next person.
But still this year is worthwhile, filled with festivals of emotions, the carnage of life. People come and go. The slim Asslam do stir quite good news for him, everyone was talking about him, it does show that his hardwork for the year's resolution. People change along the way, and some still remains the same. No matter how you talk it, it just wont budge. We have done so many together, with friends nor foes. A new friend gained, and a new enemy encountered. Some had gotten their university letters. I'm worried if things doesn't turn out on what have we planned. But still we made it, this year.
I watched Oprah when Taylor Swift gave her guitar to that kid, Jordan if I'm not mistaken. I love her expression. And so as the other episode of Oprah, the expression of happiness. Yes, I want that expression appear on my face.
After hours of re-reading past blogs, it shows the way of life. The life that I have been living all this time. Thank you guys, thank you. Thanks for the memories that we had, you all have guide me to what I am now. I can't live without you guys, empty and pitiful. I've experienced it first hand.
It has been a long time since I wrote poems, so spontaneously I end this year's post with one.
And so as the fallen will ponder on the zeitgeist of this time.
By the time the clock strikes 12, we all waltzed around the floor, cheeringly.
The earth smiles with its gesture, the sun glare at the humans so they can squint, and so the moon reflects it as it might.
The crimson sky are lighted by the flames of humanity, still blinded by the black ash of the future.
And just before the clock strikes 12, people gathered to do what they can, to see what they can, to say what they can.
In numbers they're shouting, by words they're singing, by hearts they're saying.
At this moment people started to smile, assuming that the past is dead, cheeringly they anticipated this day, just this.
To call what's fair, to keep or to leave behind. Just so they will be lighter traveling onto the road that they built altogether by themselves.
And seconds till the clock strikes 12, some people are still at war, some people still crying in their beds, some wouldn't bother, some in starvation, some in their deathbed. So what's make this day as fair as the other? We'll see what happen when the clock strikes 12.
Happy new year guys, live a good life shall we?