On the morning of April 3, 2009, Friday, I marched along the stairs of the University Gymnasium towards my last few steps as a college student. And I would have to say, emotions are much better left unsaid because there are clearly no words to describe how it is to deal with something that is so final yet so unfinished.
Finality is a scary word. It amplifies the sound of old and familiar doors closing and of intimidating and strange ones opening right in front of you. Choices that have been so few before begin to multiply and swell into decisions that are overwhelming enough to turn your once safe corner into this dangerous playground. The world is laid out in front of you and the choice is yours to make: this or that, breakdown or break legs, live or die, love or hate, leave or stay, hold on or let go, grow up or outgrow, right or wrong. Goodbyes become inevitable and much as you wouldn't want to admit it, you need to get out of your comfort zones.
With finality comes the unfinished, where you're back to zero, where the real world is just about to be conquered. And then you realize that nobody ever really stops being a student. Neither a class schedule nor a notebook, a classroom, a class report, a teacher, a pen, a classmate makes the slightest bit of difference. They just undergo some sort of transformation, I guess. They don't disappear. They may be more complicated, we may use different words to name them, but they will continue to exist for us to learn and relearn everything that has been taught to us since that day we uttered our first word. Some of them we may lose only to be replaced by something or someone to continue the task of teaching us.
Learning. It's unthinkable how it never stops, how it will never stop.
***
A journal entry on April 9, 2009.
Resurrected to culminate the graduation month.
Finality is a scary word. It amplifies the sound of old and familiar doors closing and of intimidating and strange ones opening right in front of you. Choices that have been so few before begin to multiply and swell into decisions that are overwhelming enough to turn your once safe corner into this dangerous playground. The world is laid out in front of you and the choice is yours to make: this or that, breakdown or break legs, live or die, love or hate, leave or stay, hold on or let go, grow up or outgrow, right or wrong. Goodbyes become inevitable and much as you wouldn't want to admit it, you need to get out of your comfort zones.
With finality comes the unfinished, where you're back to zero, where the real world is just about to be conquered. And then you realize that nobody ever really stops being a student. Neither a class schedule nor a notebook, a classroom, a class report, a teacher, a pen, a classmate makes the slightest bit of difference. They just undergo some sort of transformation, I guess. They don't disappear. They may be more complicated, we may use different words to name them, but they will continue to exist for us to learn and relearn everything that has been taught to us since that day we uttered our first word. Some of them we may lose only to be replaced by something or someone to continue the task of teaching us.
Learning. It's unthinkable how it never stops, how it will never stop.
***
A journal entry on April 9, 2009.
Resurrected to culminate the graduation month.
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