A pressure cooker's worth of schedule

Studies.

I’m relieved that I’m on the halfway mark in more ways than one. We’re talking about a four-year degree and an additional year of legal training. That’s if I decide to practice as a barrister, but the chances are likely. I mean, why stop at the bachelor level when I can improve the shape of my career? That decision also makes me feel … riper than I should. When I take a step back and look at all of my friends, most of them are now in their final year and looking forward to their graduation next year whereas a bunch of us (including me) won’t be officially be done until two years after.

Oh, well.

Something must be wrong with me to realize that I’m feeling more at home with Creative Writing when it’s one of the electives attached to my degree. I can’t exactly change time, can I? I’m not going to change my degree pathway at this stage. If I wanted to, as I’ve mentioned before, I’d have done it, much to the exuberance of my good friend. I read in between the lines that he’d have loved to be accorded with the opportunity of us graduating together from his choice of words, but it is what it is. I don’t know whether he’ll show up at my convocation to send me off with so much of a goodbye because we’ve never broached on this topic. It’ll be awesome to see him there, but I won’t blame him if he can’t attend due to reasons unknown to us now. I guess we’ll only know when the time arrives.

This particular elective that I chose on a whim has the remnants of Writer’s Craft, which is a positive and negative thing because it’s unlocked the chain of memories that I thought I buried in the depths of my heart. I still hear the sound of my own heart cracking in the dead silence whenever I catch myself reminiscing on my time in that class. A part of me still harbors the belief that if I hadn’t enrolled at the time that I did, I would’ve saved myself from all of the troubles that ensued with it. It’s not that I’m wishing those batch of classmates away - that’s not true because I couldn’t ask for a better batch - but more along the lines of two people. It’s always in the serenity of the chilly evening air that their images float with lucidity in my psyche. One I’ve stabbed with the sharpest end of a sword and the other sending his prayers of happiness to the skies with the wish that I’ll receive it. (It is with regrets that I don't know when it will come.)

You can pretty much deduce the ending from that sentence, although if you’re thinking of betrayal, you’re dead wrong.

Nope, it’s nothing to that degree.



The other friend’s right; I’ve signed myself up for a round of torture with the amount of coursework. I can’t whinge because I knew about the intensity almost as soon as the enrollment was open. It is with clarity that I remember his kind advice to swap things around (two of the electives with the core subject next year, like what I did for the first semester as a sophomore)... but let’s just say that I overestimated my capabilities and academic schedule. I thought I’d be able to ride this semester out like I did for the last one. Don’t get me wrong; I love the subjects that I chose. Otherwise, why was I stubborn for it? It bleeds me dry inasmuch as it resuscitates me with interest.

He didn’t bat his eyelids when I told him that I stuck to my choice. It was as if he saw it coming. You see, we managed to catch up in the first week over coffee - away from campus - and a tad bit of laughter to lighten the mood of what will be an adventurous penultimate year. Both of us are waist-deep in our respective matters and it's hard to waddle without growing weary over our grades.

Speaking of electives, I’m sure that the History mate will face-palm himself when he hears that I’m doing one related to philosophy. He embraces it with more passion than myself and it was as plain as day that I didn’t fancy learning about it. When we learned about the Enlightenment and the Salon, where all of the philosophers - including Voltaire, Rousseau, Montesquieu, and Kant, to name a few - exchanged ideas with each other over tea, he flourished like a bird in the sky, even more so than me. Me, I swam under the enormous pressures of understanding each concept that each philosopher brought to the table.

Oh, well. *shrugs*