TWOZEROTWO'09♥

a-HA.

I am not so IT fail after all. I still managed to get in after losing the email that our class chair so kindly sent with the email and pass to get in here.

THAT IS SAYING SOMETHING.

Do ANY of you, ANYONE AT ALL, realise

HOW LONG THIS THING HAS BEEN PRACTICALLY DEAD.

I did not come in for goodness knows HOW long, because firstly I lost the email and secondly I thought, hey, it's over, why should I? Why should I rake up the past?

But this is the kind of past that DESERVES to be raked up! I was just reading through the posts, and PM, you said you WERE in love with 202!

202'09

It's kind of sad that there HAS to be a year behind it. That means it's not forever.

But it also gave us an IDENTITY!! For as long as RGS stands, here, Bishan, or wherever,

THERE WILL NEVER AGAIN BE SUCH A CLASS THAT MANAGED TO PRODUCE THE GIGGLES AND SHRIEKS WE PRODUCED ON ACP, OR THE LAUGHTER WE PROVOKED AT DRAMA NIGHT. THERE WILL NEVER AGAIN BE SUCH A CLASS THAT WENT SO ALL OUT FOR NET CARN WE PRINTED 6 DIFFERENT PLAYER COMBIS.

(Well, there might. But for poetry's sake, let's pretend there won't be.)

THERE WILL NEVER AGAIN BE SUCH A CLASS AS 102'08, OR 202'09!!

I don't want to say that there won't be another class that I'll ever love so much, because "YOU NEVER KNOW" and I don't want to prejudice myself either, but I WILL say that there most probably won't ever be such a class I'll love like THIS again.

This post isn't the 100th, or the 150th, or anything so cool, but I don't care, a heartfelt message needs not a nice round number to be posted. Just like we didn't need to be extraordinary people to feel extraordinary love.

Here is a poem from Lucy Maud Montgomery.

The Old Home Calls by Lucy Maud Montgomery
Come back to me, little dancing feet that roam the wide world o'er,
I long for the lilt of your flying steps in my silent rooms once more;
Come back to me, little voices gay with laughter and with song,
Come back, little hearts beating high with hopes, I have missed and mourned you long.

My roses bloom in my garden walks all sweet and wet with the dew,
My lights shine down on the long hill road the waning twilights through,
The swallows flutter about my eaves as in the years of old,
And close about me their steadfast arms the lisping pine trees fold.

But I weary for you at morn and eve, O, children of my love,
Come back to me from your pilgrim ways, from the seas and plains ye rove,
Come over the meadows and up the lane to my door set open wide,
And sit ye down where the red light shines from my welcoming fireside.

I keep for you all your childhood dreams, your gladness and delights,
The joy of days in the sun and rain, the sleep of carefree nights,
All the sweet faiths ye have lost and sought again shall be your own,
Darlings, come to my empty heart­! I am old and still and alone!

---

...This blog is old and still and alone too. I'll be keeping it alive, if anyone wants to come back, like it says in the poem.

I'll be waiting. Waiting for you.

Love always,
Kimi.