Monday, June 11, 2012

Tumbleweed.

It's the last week at school. My last week walking the halls of my high school as a student. In about ten days, I'll be walking the stage as a graduate, getting my diploma, rocking the yellow cap and gown that my school gave me, a tassel that say 2012 waving around in my face. 
Last week, I went to my freshman orientation at college. And let me say this; it's totally different than high school. The campus is huge, there is literally nobody telling you what to do, it's all up to you to decide those things for you, and the biggest thing is that everyone out there was so nice and welcoming, ready for us to join their school community. Literally, everywhere I turned, I was able to make a new friend. And I can't wait to go back in the fall to make MORE friends. (Yay friends!)
But when I came back to my high school, I felt wierd. I felt like I didn't belong there anymore. I felt like I went to another brighter world, and now was coming back to a duller one. Surely, I  missed my high school friends and was happy to see them, but I felt kind of out of it. I kinda felt like I had outgrown this place. 
So that makes me a tumbleweed. In one of the Peanut's Christmas special, I think it's called "I Want A Dog for Christmas, Charlie Brown", we meet Snoopy's brother, Spike. He goes to visit Snoopy, and gets adopted by ReRun, Linus' and Lucy's brother, who is desperate for a dog of his own. Anyways, towards the end of the movie, Spike returns to the desert, where he builds a tumbleweed snowman, and then it flies away. I kinda feel like that tumble weed, because right now I'm flying to a place that is yet unknown. I have no home. High school is over, pretty much, and college is welcoming me with welcome arms. Yet, I'm afraid to let go the security blanket that is high school, where I resided for the last four years, and experience the experiences that I have yet to experience.
 I'll miss my friends. I'll miss taking the bus to school, instead of driving. I'll miss knowing what to expect. 
I'm a tumble weed. 
I feel like singing that song by Nelly Furtado: 
I'm like a bird, 
I don't know where my home is. 
I forgot the rest of the words, but you get the point. Let me fly. 

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