I'm counting my days in High School. . . I will graduate soon. After the waters of March, I'll see eventually the changes that my grandmother has been telling me since then. Seriously, I don't demand for fast days. It is poignant to think that I will soon leave the school that have been my home for 10 years and the contemplation of reluctantly walking away from the people whom I learned how I am really defined and how much a big thing deserves me.

MARCH is here! Literally, I'll march slowly until I reach the stage, I'll get my diploma and shake the hands of the officials who have influenced me so much. Moreover, I'll see myself and my classmates in white toga. I will then see the students who have received the honors. Am I disqualified? or will I have that shiny steel around my neck too?

As an addition to my contemplation, I assume that I really got the attitude of a real Rizalian. The values, that our mentors have been teaching us, reflect me so. The values of a Rizalian, being responsible, courteous, and has integrity, run constantly into my veins.