High school days worth remembering as I found myself Essay

Life is all(prenominal) only if a number of constancy, with the changing seasons and tides cutting the remaining days of the lives of men. The progression of the life of universe a student retains a significant room in my thoughts as my advanced school days will perpetually be remembered, if not by e precisebody else, at least by myself. Or so I think at least by myself, lest I forget that I had the comp all of good friends along the way. They never abandoned me in measure when I need them most. I was there for them when they, too, need someone to be with. It is only if a fraction of what sum of good deeds I must or feel to give them in return.And this is what I care most in my extravagantly school days, apart from everything else that contributed to my identity of who I am today. High school has stipulation me the highest chances of expanding my view not only of myself but also to the pack around me. This is whether they liked me or not, or whether they ever know me at a ll. I must say, familiarity has given a deeper sense of camaraderie and that my friends have occupied my thoughts everyday. The bond of knowledge I had is what I liked most, although at times tests on familiarity seem to erode the rigid relationship I had with my folks.My friends and I normally hung-out on one of our camps, the term we call the official hang-out place of the group. And more than often than not, these camps were usually the houses of those who were just nearby the school. My friends always bring with them load of food, and stuff that we can use to spend our time away particularly during weekends. As much as we love listening to music, my friends also shrink from several instruments, bringing with them guitars and percussion instruments as we fill the room with breedalbeit gruesome in lazy days.I remember the days and nights that our draw of friends spent unneurotic, lazy afternoons that encircled us until dawn with frivolous stories and flights of our fanta sies as the clouds hover higher up us like sluggish cottons against a accentuate of sunburst orange, cold and rainy days that made us huddle together and make remarks on our facial expressions. I remember, too, the high school gatherings we attend and left without hesitation and without anticipation of what may stand ahead of us. all in all we know is that we have each other and the world did not intimacy much anymore. I remember these and them very well. These friends of mine in high school are the some of the classmates I had during those years, expanding as time travel ahead of us effortlessly while we toil in our perfunctory tasks in the academe. We were classmates, and we were friends, treating each other more like brothers and sisters whose family names never really mattered, or from which place each of us came from, or from what weensy we know or from what much we oftentimes misunderstand.We were an eager bunch of students, whose friendship gathered itself across the da ys and months, sweeping us together amidst the transformation we were into. I hated moments that were spent on the nothingness of empty mentation of sitting alone with no one to talk to as people go far me by as if I was not there, not even off my shadow. I also hated those times when I could hardly pass my exams and quizzes just because I was not able to remember the details in the subjects after memorizing in agonizing hours during the most unholy hours of the night.But above all these, the one thing I hated the most during my high school years was my inability to completely beat deadlines for I was always short in passing requirements although I make certain that I pour my best efforts in completing what has to be done. Perhaps I took a lot of time finishing-off my requirements never being full conscious that my time is greatly affected. Adjustments had to be made, and during those years I kept on adjusting, never knowing exactly where I am heading to but still braving the p ath that few dared to wander through.And so, in the end, I remembered them all even though I seem to have lost myself. I thought I was never really able to arrive at a point wherein I can know more almost myself, of who I really am. Yet my friends were my eyes, and in them I saw myself clearly reflected in those precious organs of vision that gripped my being far tighter than any embrace could offer. I remember my high school days very well, and I remember myself even more as much as I remember my friends.