Ephemeral

Short-lived.
Our brains, they compress memories. As they go further back in time, imagery is overlaid, sounds overlapped, feelings overwhelm.

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I returned to VS again, fully aware of my tiredness. My weariness. My emotions. I did not feel a thing walking into the foyer except for relief. A quiet joy. A numbed glee.

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The school watched them grow. Guess what, I watched you guys grow too. And I'm so proud, happy and sad. From a participant to a spectator. I feel the weight of things that lie on your shoulders as you step out from VS the final time - not now, but when it comes.

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It is not without some pain that I feel disembodied from the school now, just a year ahead. What Jia Lok wrote on FB reflected my sentiments too.
"I always wondered what I have given back to VS. 
And just yesterday, I realised it was that insignificant. 
Because whatever we, as Victorians, have given back to the school, they will pass away. People come and go. Four years down the road when we return Home, no junior is going to recognise us; we probably won't even see a trace of footprints we left behind. 
But what VS has given to us - the values, the friendships, the memories - they will last. for a lifetime. And our job is to live by them, striving for the best in our lives wherever we go, whenever we can. "

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After feeling, a wellspring of emotions leaving VS, I headed to VJC for the LSD art exhibition, albeit very late. Still my awesome bros (bin rosly) welcomed me with a cheery Honky accent which I gladly reciprocate because we just get high like that. Met famous Nanyang artist Liu Kang shortly after and there began my slow decent into madness fast accent into spastic AEP mode.

The exhibition was undoubtedly not worth my elitist time nice. The miniature work was ironically epic, the lofty dandelion seeds work was ironically solid, and well basically the world of art never fails to bullshit capture my imagination. The artists are really skillful and awesome peeps, happy that Sanchez found another awesome group of friends outside AEP ^^.

We had dinner after, where jokes about Song Yu continued to pervade and generic nonsense was spouted. (Seriously how did they name strawberries)

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I like to relate the entirety of my post to the title, no matter how irrelevant it seems sometimes.

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Short-lived. Quickly passing.

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The Photographer
Zealot of meticulous literature, a crafter wielding refracting tools.
With sight extending beyond peripheral majesty, the interpreter for the Earth's language of beauty.
The eyes no longer a cold tunnel to the brain but a crenellation embellishing the heart's palace.
No less the artistic documenter, no less the ordinary individual with extraordinary vision and precision.

Airforce Memorial, Washington D.C

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I have more to blog about. But I have more to do. God, help me. But also, help everyone else.