One thing about my secondary school life was that teachers pretty much regard me as a perfectly normal student with no danger threat. So I tried to come into class late a few times to see what it’ll get me into. I decided to be late to math class. I think I chose this class because it was the last class I had on Friday. My friend, Mark, was at the cafeteria too. If my memory is right, he wanted to escape his last class too. So I sat there with him for quite a while before attending math. Entering the class was not a problem at all. The teacher didn’t care at all.
I even escaped one of my language class just to “pretend” that I was helping out to set up some event. I just hated being in the same class every day, just sitting at my place trying to listen to whatever the teacher was teaching. There was absolutely no fun or thrill in it. Furthermore, the people I used to know was there and their presence were hurting my soul.
There was another occasion where I escaped an entire math lesson while still in school. It’s almost impossible to escape school by going out of school compound since my school have really strict rules. It’s not that I hate math or anything. It’s just that I needed and wanted a little thrill in life. So during that day, there was a competition going on. It was something to do with making water launched rockets. Lots of my friends joined it and for those who didn’t participate, they could spectate, if their respective teachers allow it. My math teacher didn’t allow it but I guess I didn’t really care. Hence, I joined my friends from another class, which are mostly guys since their teacher allowed them to watch due to the fact that she was one of the judges. It felt great to do something that could get me into trouble. So apart from watching the competition, my friends and I decided to prank a primary class. We decided to look for someone. We even had a random name picked out. I can’t remember what name it was but we played everything out like we were really looking for someone. My friend did the asking, calling out for the random name we chose. The scary part was that there was someone with that name in the primary class, except that he transferred to another school. (My school has kindergarten, primary and secondary all together at the same place.) After leaving the primary class, we were all relieved, wondering how random name picking could lead to such coincidence. At the end of that day, I did learn that my math teacher wanted to demerit the students who escaped the math class but the truth was, he never did.
After reading all that, I think you can guess my regret. This is probably the one thing I still regret now, concerning about my primary and secondary school life. I wasn’t bad enough. I wasn’t a troublemaker. I should have been one, not a serious one but a sometimes casual troublemaker or prankster. Why didn’t I thought of that? Everyone say it’s better to be good all the way but I feel as if what they told me were lies. You can be bad, but there’s always a limit to being a troublemaker. Why not control how bad you are and not go too far?
Some of you may wonder why I would even regret such things. To be honest, I feel like I haven’t lived at all. I look at my friends who are famous for being notorious and I feel like I’m just plain, with not much hilarious stories to tell and laugh about next time.
I should also have been louder. I should have been a boss at being direct, yelling out of my disagreements and pin down teachers who were biased and not practicing the rules of student confidentiality. I should have played pranks on April fools. I should have done so many things to get myself into a little bit of trouble because being good all my life really sucks. I want to run wild. Wilder than I ever did.
And now, I still crave to be a badass, be a rebel, shooting down people who disrespect with sharp woven sentences aimed at their hearts. I wish I could do more things to feel more badass too. Maybe it’s a way for me to feel much more confident, because being badass requires confidence. And confidence is what I still lack, although I’m slowly building it up higher and higher.
Or maybe, there’s another explanation to my badass cravings. Maybe, I’m secretly a raging daredevil.
I still remember being able to jump off the ledge of the high tower at the the swimming pool. The first jump was scary, because I looked down, when I knew I shouldn’t. But after doing the first one, I wasn’t scared anymore. It was exhilarating. I was flying, well sort of. It was very fun. It didn’t hurt at all, since I landed pretty well, straight down. I was under guidance, if you were wondering, and no, I’m not a professional diver or anything. It was part of my swimming course, whereby my teacher decided to give us a taste of jumping off the high tower. I did it twice, which was enough, according to my teacher. I should have done more.
And yes, I conclude I’m probably a daredevil. I want to do so many other things, like paragliding, cliff jumping, wind surfing and wingsuit sky diving and if I ever die due to extreme sports, so be it. At least I’ll die doing things I love.
Waiting to be a badass someday, or in another life, if there is one.
Be badass sometimes.
Stay daring! xx