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Runaway

Wearing: skirt (Glassons), jumper (Dotti), belt (Forever New), shoes (Converse), bag (CottonOn)
Exams are long and time is short. You’re tempted to run, to refuse, to make a scene – no matter how much you know or how little. The next three hours in one room, in one seat, listening to one combined sound: the staff’s pacing footsteps, and the surely unnecessary bellow of ’15 minutes to go’. As if your limp and tired hand didn’t already know. But in the midst of feeling sorry for yourself, the words of Hip Hop preacher Eric Thomas hit you (or well, they do for me): “Four hundred years of slavery.. and you can’t get through eighteen through twenty five, through a writing class and you got tutor after tutor, resource after resource..” And reality is, you were never truly going to walk out of that room, but a weighty statement like this hits home, and you’re back to answering the now seemingly pathetic question in front of you. As if anyone needs to know the probability of the number 6 coming up on a dice if it’s rolled 150 times. Surely despite the great mystery these questions arise, some things should just be left unknown – for all of our sake.
Though as all bad things do, exams have also come to an end. The sun is out, and even though I no longer feel the need to jump at every opportunity of an outing (these photos were taken during exam time), I’m out anyway because I have a plan. Quote myself, on the last day of exams: “Now I’m gonna do everything I ever wanted to do with my life.” Apart from getting a job, that is. I just realized that in fact even handing in a C.V if you are under 16 is posing an illegal situation on employers. So, we have a slight setback. My coins will remain coins, as the jobless remain jobless. But hey, if I did have notes, I’d miss out on that oddly comforting feeling you receive when ACCEPTED crosses the eftpos machine after eating at a cafe. Especially at those times you swear it ought to say otherwise. 
To happy and relieving moments all round – have a good week!
McKenzie xx

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