Did I end on the right note?  

	No, I didn't.  I was damned close; that was my last true advice
to everybody, the final thing that I _really_ wanted posted here.  It
was a post that I still consider good, but...

	I return.  And I will make one more post here.  Then I will be
gone from unihigh.seniors forever.

	This post is just another one of my Essays.  It was fairly
typical, I suppose; that's how I've begun to write them over the last
few months.  

	On re-reading it, though, it actually gives me the right mood.
It looks almost exactly like what I really wanted to post to end this.

	It's my final thoughts as a senior, and therefore the final
thought deserving of being on this newsgroup.

	In short...this is it.  Please read it.  Comments are not
necessary, but would be appreciated.  Thanks.

~Newsgroups: none (mailed-to: jglish)
~Subject: The beginning of an afterlife.

	Heaven and Hell.

	Who needs 'em.

	Tuesday, about 9:00PM: I stand up, wait in line until my name is
read, then walk up on stage to grab my diploma, then my rose, and then I
walk off.

	I gave my thumbs-up to the crowd as I did it.  That was the last
showing of school spirit I can ever really perform, the last time I can
show my love for the best school I've ever been to in a public place to
a bunch of people that actually understood what I was doing.

	I walked off stage and back into line, as behind me Doug's name
was called to come do the same thing.

	The end had come.  


	
	Graduation has been over for nearly a week now, school for more
than that.  

	Nothing of what that meant _really_ hit me until that last week.
I thought it had; I thought I was ready for what it meant to be done
with school, done with Uni.   I thought I could deal with it, that my
emotions of the issue wouldn't cause anything much different than what
I'd dealt with before.

	On the night of the handprints, though, I began to realize
differently.  On that night I figured out Uni, once and for all.  I
figured out, finally, what it meant to me, what it had done to me to be
a part of it; I saw a part of me that I rarely knew existed (no
mispellings) coming out as a part of the final moments in my school.

	It was more than what I had thought the night before, at Prom;
it wasn't just the people that I would miss, even if the people were
what made up the school.  While at that dance, I had gone through a few
minutes of just staring blindly into the crowd, looking for something to
hold onto so I wouldn't be forced to leave the school I'd always loved
so much.  

	I was standing in the couseling office in Uni the next day when
I realized what had really happened then.  
	
	When I had been staring into that crowd, I was about as
depressed as I can ever get.  What do I do?  What _can_ I do?  By the
Gods, somebody _help_ me!  That's what I had been thinking at Prom, in
the dim light, as I sat in a chair and stared.  

	But I had been taken out of that state.  I had been pulled out
of my self-despair by people that actually cared, at least to some
extent, about what was going on with my life and wanted me to have a
good time.

	In the counseling office of Uni, standing alone, looking out
into the dark outside, I began to realize what Uni was all about.  As
Asako considered coming in and talking to me in there, I realized what
it was that I cared about so much.  

	I acted on it, and right away.  Lindsey and Amanda wanted to put
their handprints together; Lindsey was in the last five to be allowed to
do it, Amanda was right next to me in the order.  My solution was the
obvious one, but one that I doubt I would've chosen on most other nights
-- tell Lindsey that I'm switching with her.  

	I gave up what I could to make her just that little bit happier,
and this from someone that I hardly even know -- just a classmate, just
someone that I'd gone to school with ever since 6th grade.  
	
	I wouldn't do that for many people in this world, yet one of
them just happened to be a person I hardly knew.

	That's what Uni's about.  It's about friendship, being friends
with people you don't know, but do trust.  It's about being able to do
whatever you can to help your friends out, even if they truly don't
deserve it.

	It's about friendship.

	I knew most of the population of Uni.  No matter how little I
knew everyone there, though, I could probably be considered a friend of
most of them.
	
	To Leif: thanks for the party, man.  You've been someone to look
up to for an entire year; I'll never forget ya.
	
	To Sang: I owe you one for snapping me out of my depression.  It
was good to see the movie with you, too.  I'll see you on campus, I
promise.

	To Sophie: I never really knew you, never talked with you for
any length of time while in school, never got a chance to figure out who
you are and what you want to do.  Thanks for letting me do so over the
last couple of days.

	To Hannah: you're the one person I sometimes wish I'd never met.
I'll never understand you; I don't _want_ to understand you.  But I'm
letting this go anyway.  The past is gone, my friend, and that includes
our battles.  Let it end, and let us remember only the good times.  

	To Amy: you're one of those people that I'll _definitely_ see
again, like it or not, so I might as well go ahead and like it.  I owe
you more than just about anyone else in this world.  Thanks for not
instantly hating me, thanks for dealing with me, and thanks for being my
unofficial Prom date.  

	To Ellen: thanks for trying to snap me out of it.  It actually
helped.  

	To GP: I don't owe you anything.  Thanks for existing; we're
more alike than either of us will admit, and for that reason we like to
attack eack other.  Keep in touch.

	To Kirsten: yes, I really did see you again.  So sue me.

	To Nasri: you've been one of those people that most could
consider a friend anyway for most of the time I've known you.  Thanks
for dealing with me, and for not holding back.  

	To Ms. Hellyer: wow.  A faculty member that actually knows
what's going on.  I thank you for all the kind comments, and even for
the nasty ones.

	To Jessica: you still remember that I exist, and I think it's
for more than just Leif.  Thanks.

	To Shannon: your sense of humor is as twisted as my own, if not
more so.  That's comforting.  Good luck for your senior year; I think
you'll have a strange time of it.

	To Zhenya: thanks for showing me that I mean something, my dear.
I doubt I could possibly forget you.

	The list is not all inclusive.  I'm writing that mostly to
people that wouldn't ever read this, and wouldn't care to figure out
how; it's not to their faces, but it's what I've been thinking about.
There are plenty more people I'd like to put something down for, but I
won't.

	But there's one person...

	To Jenne: you've been that loyal reader for a long time now.
Even though you're eventually wandering off, I know you won't be gone
entirely; you'll take my stuff, even if you never want to respond to it.
You fight with me, but don't care.  You've helped me out more than you
could imagine, even if you've never let me do a thing for you.  Though I
may fear you and respect you beyond imagine, I still have to say it.

	Thank you, my friend, for doing what you could.

	
	Uni is about friendships.  Uni is about doing what you can for
everyone else just because they might need the help.  Uni is about
trusting others even though you really have no reason to do so.

	Uni is over.

	The time has come, the Skirvin said, to speak of many things: of
times long past, of times to come...and what the future brings.

	This has been the story of the last of the high school events.
The year is 1995; the name of the place was University High.

	And, with a couple of butchered quotes, I again end.

	The end has come.

	Uni is dead.

	Long live Uni.

				- Tim Skirvin (tskirvin@uiuc.edu)