Post 3: Comparisons

I am in fact late with one entry.

As the title and premise of this blog, I'm supposed to post a short memory once a week; and last week, I forgot to. Yesterday, I compensated for that, although I must admit I wanted to keep a religious every-Saturday-short-blog-sharing kind of routine, I obviously ruined that chain now.

However, to keep up at least with the 4 times a month postage, I am on my third.

Post 3: Comparisons

When recalling the days of our teenhood, at least here in the Philippines, people often tell me that high school was their best years.

Personally, I beg to differ.

Childhood was a dream. It wasn't just a fantasy, because it really happened, and I was really happy. But after the primary years, elementary school was brutal. Compared to high school however, elementary felt like the Secret Garden.

High School on the other hand was roller coster. It wasn't just earth smacked right between heaven and hell, it was puberty, and it reigned in all of us supreme.

Primary years in the Philippines start around nursery until preparatory school. After that, we graduate towards grade school, and mind you, we're approximately 7 years old by 1st grade, and that even depends if you were accelerated. The trend before, and even until now, is to graduate as young as possible, and get into college before puberty runs dry. Some kids make it by 17, others by 16. I went to college at 17. Most from my school did.

College was your marriage to reality. For some of us, it was liberation. 'Freedom'. Although not long after you get settled in your first year, it wasn't as 'free' as we previously thought.

I loved/love going to college. Right now, in my last year as a full-time apprentice and taking my last class that only goes along with the practicum. Dating back from 1st year, I daresay, compared to high school, college felt like an overseas experience and you actually bring back what you learned.

Strictly speaking, this blog is for short narratives only. How I'd love to expound, but somehow, I'm finding a kind of pleasure in sharing gists of my past.

However short, gists.