Yearbook. A collage to record, highlight and commemorate the spirit of the most amazing times you have had in your school, college and university lives.
It's the best book anyone can ever have.
In ten years. Fifteen years. Or even twenty years, you can flick through it to remind yourself of those moments in life that made you who you are today.
Those bunch of friends.
That snotty lecturer.
That loner librarian.
That Economics exam you failed.
I, on the other hand, will remember it for all the wrong reasons...
I remember sitting in front of the computer, trying to put together this great piece of text that could go into the Student Profile section. I uploaded a favourite photo of myself, which went well with the choice of words I had picked, making myself very proud.
I thought it was perfect. Everyone will read it, and go - Wow!
I was wrong. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't even close to perfect.
I scaled my answer. Embellished it. To make it sound so brilliant. So awesome. And in doing all that, I forgot to give in an answer that was true to who I was. Who I am.
The end result?
The people I wrote it for, never read it, since their entries didn't make it into the yearbook, and the people who did, weren't happy with what they did read; a lack of them.
The perfect end to your year.
A memento for close-to-eternity.
But, it still is just a book.