The Bend(s) in the College Road

On the 25th of June, I will be marching in a ceremony that denotes the end of one of the best chapters of my life yet: college.

I don't know how to describe how it feels. I want to go all smart-sassy about it, and just say how cool all this is right now, but no, I feel like I am walking along a wet roadside under the heavy rains, and I don't care where I end up. I feel like I keep turning to the left, right, back--trying to figure out if I missed something that's vital to my departure. I keep looking around to see who else are with me. And, I don't know. It feels totally weird.

I have been in school since the first thing I could fetch from my memory (I got into school before I turned two years old), and now: I am over it. I've been dreaming this since I realized that the desks and black/whiteboards aren't for me, but now that I'm here, I feel totally lost.

Not that I don't know where I'm going, because, I am quite sure where I am headed to. But the smell of the memories just gets on top of me most of the time. Like, a while ago, I just returned to my high school alma mater to fetch a form I need for my college graduation, and I just had to choke the lingering nostalgia to shut it up. I mean, I didn't wanna go on walking the staircase with tears doing a show for me, did I? 

And all these things, these photos, they just creep up out of nowhere (well, out of some attempt to commemorate the beautiful past before the grand blast) and they just make me go crazy. I miss the people so badly. And then, I will realize how lengthy this road had already been. Too long that it's not meant for another block... no, of course not!

And now, I am wondering if I have seized this 5-year season of my life enough to let it go, and to move forward. And I don't know. Nevertheless, as I said from a post a year ago: I would rather have nothing be altered. I have been crafted the woman I am right now through the experiences and people woven within my veins to my heart. I wouldn't have the words and the tears and the laughter and the smiles I have right now had it not been brought by all these little pieces of the crazy-I-am. 

In this time of my life, I know I have lived and loved. I have failed and discovered. I have been wounded and redeemed. It's a crazy shuttle of losts and finds. It's an adventure indeed. It is the memory of  my lifetime. In it, I felt young and wild, as I experienced adulthood and decision-making. There have been so many people, too many people, I think. And all of them are droplets to this little existence. Their essence is acknowledged, and it is just impossible to be where I am sitting right now, had it not been caused by the words, stories, walks, runs, fireworks, trips, rains, sunrises, and sunsets that occurred in this bittersweet moment of my little known life. 

The dreams of the people I started loving from this chapter creep through me, and they caused me prayers for their welfare. That all be well for all and each of them. That love may abound in their lives. And that life will be so much more greens and plenty.

The prejudices and the hurts, I leave to the past. All the hopes and promises shall be girded in my heart and memory. Things will falter and the roads will go steeper. The end of this, is well, as we all know, another's beginning. An exciting journey. 

To the questions unanswered. To the confusions. To the failures yet to come. All to growth and all for the portrayal of a grace boundless! 

How are you?

I am not a big (nor small) fan of small talks. People think that because I deal and talk with a lot of people, I must be a small-talk expert. Not that anyone told me this before, but I just think that people think that chatty people are used to, and are even enjoying, invaluable meaningless conversations. Not a chance I do.

Small talks and short meaningful conversations are two different things. I always go for meaningful conversations. I believe that people are not just simply hurdles to get through or stuff like that... I believe that each human we ever meet or acquaint ourselves with add to our being. Each soul is a piece in one's story. May what had been between you two is just as little as being co-passengers in a public utility vehicle. 

A three-minute conversation that talks about experiences or lessons always means so much more than an hour of detached, I-have-to-put-up-with-this-person-so-we'll-talk-about-the title-of-his-job-and-the-route-to-his-neighborhood kind of chat. People might be often surprised when I inquire of deep and awkward topics and issues. Not that I do this in the absence of my manners or my lack of reservations, but because I am always purely curious that I wanna know a story. People are always like books, and it's always been fun reading them. I'm also not doing this because I want to bear someone's tale, but because I wanna know what inspires, fuels, squeezes someone. I devour other people's dreams, passions, and pleasures. They just add up to my inspiration to do what I wanna do, and they help me grow even more as an individual. 

I am saying these because I just realized how much annoying and uncomfortable it is for me to receive "I'm okay" or "Still the same" responses whenever I ask someone how he/she is doing. I don't ask people how they are when I don't intend to know a story---a piece of what's up in their lives. I do this because other people's stories add up to my collection of life---a non-written compilation of the beautiful and devastating things that complete my very own tale. I know that there might be times when some people might not be up to talking about themselves, and I think it is quite acceptable to receive a response that says "I'm not actually in the mood to relate to anyone what's been up with me.", and that in itself is a story.