unlucky

I was asked to reedit some graduation messages. While reading the almost tear jerking notes of the unknown graduating batch, (unknown since I knew none of them—at least the students whose messages I reedited), I felt how unlucky I was not to have a high school year book and not to write a message for my college classmates.

The preparations for my high school graduation included basking in the sun for hours, singing outdated tunes, bowing to faceless bougainvilleas, and marching to the beat of the almost synchronized beat drums. Yearbook? Nah. It was just an additional preparation, an additional pocket driller. And I bet nobody from my class was cheesy enough to suck the idea. Nobody aside from me.

I was luckier when I got to college—we had. A decent one actually. I have to be biased since my friend was the editor of the yearbook. And I helped in editing some of the parts of the black and silver hard-bound keeper of memories. I wasn’t as excited about it as I would have been if all of us were to give our messages. I knew back then that it was impossible since it was hard enough to edit the yearbook with only the names, achievements, addresses, and life-quotes. What more if everyone would put in a 2-3-sentence message?

After finishing the editing of those messages I thought that it was for the best. After all I couldn’t imagine myself reading those cheesy messages. I couldn’t even think of what to write to begin with. Lastly, my sincerity in dealing with my classmates couldn’t be measured by those 3 liner messages. I can still say I am unlucky for not experiencing the yearbook as how high school students are supposed to experience them. But it all ends to that.