This is a post about my senior year.

Got dat young classic end of the year post. Also this is terribly written, not in a modest way, as in I didn’t even try to be creative at all :( 

“and so it goes…” -Alex, on what I should write 

There’s a building at school called the 100s Hallway. It’s disgusting. People leave their lunch trash on the floor and make out in the back corners and it always smells like pot and there are SO many people. There’s nothing special the simple one hallway, other than the fact that two of my favorite classes, Spotlight (which is Journalism) and Film Class, are located in that hallway. So at least twice a day, I’d have to enter that hallway, and most of the time, I didn’t mind. I spent one school year longing for Spotlight, another semester longing for Film Class to transfer to room 112; walking down a gross hallway during passing period was the least of my problems. 

Walking in that hallway during class or after school is another story. It’s so empty, and if you’re lucky, a door at one end, either end, is open and it’s like walking through a tunnel and seeing the end. (if you aren’t, you have to wait outside for someone to open the door for you) No one is ever in there and if it’s windy, you can hear the wind, and if it’s rainy, you can hear the rain, and if it’s sunny…you can’t hear sunshine, but you can hear it in the voices of the people on the field. Every time I make the trek into, or out of, that hallway alone, down the long expanse of the entire thing to reach Film Class or the parking lot, I always feel like I’m walking through a timeline of my life, as if I have no idea how old I really am.

During this school year, I’ve never felt so young. Like the cliche idea of being young from waiting for the person you like to text you back or worrying about that test in 2nd or texting your parents to tell them where you are at. I would make plans almost every day after school, to make as much use of the day as possible, even if it meant crashing Cole Nelson’s house just to sleep on his sofa. The most people I have been able to fit in my car illegally was 7 (including me) and the amount of times I’ve broken curfew is extraordinary. I’ve walked through a very minimal amount high school parties (leaving for filming at one, falling asleep in the back yard for another), taken one on one Adventure Days with Alex, Stevie, Elyse, Angela, Paloma and Cole, cried with my best friends until 1am in the park next to my house, met Two Door Cinema Club on a street in San Diego, slept in the Tech Booth while using my SAT book as a pillow, kept a Lent promise, helped my newly found best friend cock block and cock promote, helped film and bring instruments to the top of Mount Rubidoux, skied with Elyse in Mammoth, climbed Cyclops Eye with the boys (while filming) at Joshua Tree, married about every underclassmen boy that I know, pretended to have Stevie Nevin with Angela’s car, and so much more. Most of the Gang “wishes” for the year came true: Food Battle 2011 Party, Beach Bonfire Trip, Christmas Party with an intense game of Sardines, Joe’s Sushi for dinner, late night trips everywhere and anywhere, post-dance IHOP, LA train trip, park picnics (in and out of school), Super Bowl Party, THG at midnight, birthday celebrations, going to the drive-in, last minute plans, and of course, the end of the year party. School was essentially an extension of summer, save for those Once a Days and falling up the stairs and running from class to class and being in a French class with only 3 seniors and sleeping in every period. (if you read through that, it was kind of pointless, wasn’t it? Because those are my memories. And since I’m young, those memories mean the most to me.) Overall, The idea of being young correlates with the lack of responsibility that I had with all of these events, knowing that there is something else (cough studying cough)  that I should be doing instead. On days that I felt young, I’d almost skip down the hallway, as if I couldn’t wait to be where I was going to be. 

During this school year, I’ve never felt so old. Like the cliche idea of stress pushing down on you, thus making you feel old. I became a mother figure, picking up kids, making sure they ate, and so much driving home. I’m always emotionally attached, but that just increased tenfold this year, and most of my “kids” have me sticking close to them, through thick and thin. There are times when I’ve had to comfort kids, from reassuring them that I love them as much as the next child to talking through family or relationship problems. Planning filming events with Film Class or Media that involved physical and mental work and always hearing that I was “great” from teachers just weighed me down because shit, I know I haven’t proved myself at all and it’s that tiny bit of pressure that can push you over the edge. I tried to be a good Film Club president, a decent student, a good friend, a positive child, but all I’ve ever felt was selfish and not hard working enough. There were things that I did that I thought would help me get together (though I did them all hesitantly), like all nighters for schoolwork or 6am math reviews or taking a position in theatre that was too big for me or offering my help for whatever was needed. And more than anything, that all made me feel so much older, like I have a lot to learn, so much more to be responsible for. On days that I felt old, I’d drag my feet down the hallway, going much slower than usual, more contemplative than usual. 

If I could write every little thing I’ve ever felt during that walk, I would. I didn’t even do a lot this year (or at least, I haven’t done anything that people didn’t know I already did) but I know that emotionally, I’ve made a huge improvement through the year. I’ve taught myself to silently worry, plan verbally, care more often, love more openly, always be cautious, always be hopeful, always be realistic. So after all this time, I still don’t feel good about myself and I still ask myself what the hell I’m doing at least 20 times a day, but at least I’m no longer in a psych’s office after attempting to kick the bucket and that I have goals to accomplish in my future. I just want to know that during my last year in high school I became a better person, but since I can’t decide that, I have to learn how use that last year to prove to it to myself. 

Whenever I’d go into the hallway, I would usually go into room 112, which became a filming sanctuary, with Alex and Cole as permanent residents. Whenever I’d leave the hallway, I would usually go straight into the parking lot to hop into my car (always parked next to Alex and Elyse) and drive away. I hope the future just looks like that: filming and leaving and those three people always around. Then at least I’ll have some familiarity and comfort for what I’m doing (and like I said, I’m never quite sure what that is) 


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  1. flyovercity posted this