Cloche

Second last semester before the final project paper and suddenly I am very concern over my chosen major and this line from a conversation long ago, has been tolling, clear as a bell in my mind, these past few months. It’s getting louder.

There’s a difference between what you like (referring to the subject I intended to take) and actually studying it

How dare….

I was naturally indignant.

Another asked if I’ll be able to cope again after working all those while.

How would they know?

But of course they would! Professors overseeing hundreds of students, from undergraduate to post and back then, I was just an obviously clueless PA. All I wanted to do was escape the endless and slowly choking cycle that I kept coming back to — going back to studying seemed like the solution I needed to get out.

Yes, I chose this simply because I like it. Nothing more. There wasn’t calculative planning of what it all entails. It was part desperation, part ambition, a dash of excitement of the unknown plus a heaping dose of hope. Hope that with this degree, at this age, I will be… set free.

The reality is I wasn’t doing so well. Everyday I was often reminded how I’m simply… not good. My writing lacked focus and fresh ideas. Poems eluded me. My mind grappled with abstract concept. I found brief solace in Greek myth but it was fleeting and I felt uncertain. Creative writing classes were often vague and left me frustrated. SLA was a teaching exercise that is entirely unrelated to my major. And lets not even talk about lit theories.

So… what now?

When I was 7 or 8 years old, my brother started teaching me how to ride a bike. It was a frustrating ordeal for him and he wasn’t the most patient person. It ticked him off all the wrong way when I kept falling, crashed into him or worse of all, cry. This poor attempt was soon forgotten and it was too much a hassle for my brother to bother. Around the same time, my family moved to another state and I remember seeing the crew man brought down the huge bike from the truck and the first thing I did after he put in down was ride it.

And I rode it. With no assistance whatsoever.

It might be asking too much but I’m hoping for the same to happen this time around.