After countless busy days, I decided to visit UP Campus again.
Just recently, I realized that the semester’s about to end as I received an email from the library telling me its schedule in the final days of first semester. I am not as exhausted and as loaded as the previous weeks, but the gravity of my weak appetite and laziness keep me from going there. Why should I?
Last Tuesday, I still can’t force myself to put my act together and rekindle the fire in me to do my thesis work. Yes, the greatest tragedy of my final days as an MA student is to find myself stuck somewhere, and it’s only me who can do something and make progress. Although I feel blessed with so many things that the Lord provided me in my favor, my role as a student remains the grayest area of my very contented life.
Armed with few notes, I committed myself to go to the library and find some stuff that I can contribute in my paper. Whether I like it or not, I was compelled to go.
I didn’t go there right away. My feet delivered me to SM and strolled there for a while looking for something, eventually killing the time that’s supposed to be used in doing my research. Eating a few bites of doughnut made me forget my main agenda that afternoon.
As I travelled to UP, I noticed that there were very few people in the campus. Most of them were rushing as if they’re in a race. Probably, they’re preparing for their curtain call as the semester’s about to end.
Few years ago, I was like them. When the academic calendar was still the traditional calendar, December’s like any other month, and students were not afraid of it because it’s not yet the finals. These days were different. December means finish lines or deadlines.
As I dragged my feet on the empty hallway, I felt like a walking dead. I used to be full of vigor and insights during this time of the year. I diligently finished all my readings, and when I entered my classes, I breathed ideas I’ve never thought of before. I miss those days where I get so thrilled and excited being in the classrooms and discovering the things as I reflected on my experiences in my own classrooms, knowing that someone else has his/her own stories to tell. I miss the days to sit in a class with the guidance of our professor, who requires papers to write.
I miss those days that even if I had to attend an evening class after a tiring day at work, it’s something I looked forward every other week. No matter how often I had to rewrite my work to make sure that I put all my ideas on my paper and said them in the right way, I would not trade it with a very relaxing and fine day.
When I refilled my water jug in the water fountain, I wish filling my jug with water will be as easy as filling me with desire. Where have I been for the past few days…weeks…months?
Entering the library actually made my veins alive again. I felt like my nerves were trying to work livelier than how it performed for the previous weeks.
Suddenly, I asked myself, “What have I accomplished this first semester?”
Pondering about that question was like placing a dagger in my heart. It pierced me, and it hurt. My mouth was finding the right words, but it couldn’t find them.
Probably, I still accomplished some feats including my data gathering. The slowing down of my pace came after that. I was stuck with my data and my findings. My progress was like a turtle trying to walk in a tread mill. It has not gone anywhere.
Where will I begin? When will I continue?
I guess my visit in my school is a necessity for redemption. I always tell my friend who also studies at UP that by just merely going in the campus awakens my soul and waters my appetite for learning. My recent visit did.
I needed that moment. An awakening.
Surely, there’s no more time missing things. It’s time to doing them all over again. I have to do it because four years ago, I started to fulfil my dreams, and now that I am closer to my goal, it’s time to make sure that I’ll get where I should be.
I’m now awake. I’m alive.