(Potential melodrama alert!)
Wow. It’s been a bit over two weeks since I ended one part of my life, and here we are again. The difference this time is that the doors are shutting slower, and some drips are still pouring in. There’s still a lot of goodbyes to go around, both to conclude relationships and to cherish the continuation of some.
Bleh. I apologize, but welcome back to another issue of stadarooni, and the fiftieth at that! While I did not plan for such an occurrence, know that this post may be the last time you will see me as sane. University is coming up and as some wise cliché always spouts, this is only the beginning! For now, however, we are not going anywhere.
Now, as with last summer, I want to kick things off with a story. This one will be a bit different, as I graduated! Maybe I made that sound passive, but I am unsure if it has hit me yet. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this descriptive story and enjoy the sunshine. 8)
You have just said goodbye. Not for two months or even three, but for good. It lacks weight, and the cauldron’s fire seems extinguished. That walk or drive felt the same as it did in September, and your bag tumbles onto the floor as usual. This time, it will remain there forevermore, but that feels insignificant. You handed in your final assignment and penned your last test, but it does not daunt you in knowing that is it.
Faces. They were there an hour ago, and the hour before that. Perhaps they were that of a student, a teacher, or a nobody. In the next hour, they may amalgamate into the haze of memories, which are untouchable. In that impervious shelter, they cannot be tended to, and they may deteriorate into forgotten dreams. It is not the end, however, as they make take to your road in another form and create new memories. Faces may not be forgotten so easily, but what of voices?
Emotions. Bittersweet? Joy? Sadness? Anxiety towards the unknown? For some, the end of the line may be where life reforms into eternal meandering, phasing into normality without any excitement. For others, the end is just where the page ends and the next begins with new life. Some may feel like heroes; some may feel indifferent to the trial they have persevered through. Whatever the causation, words linger in your mind, defining your smile as you take your cue off of the stage.
Fall. Why is it that during your moment, you only look to the door? There is plenty left for you before the page turns, only bound by your imagination. However, the leaves do eventually crinkle. Regret is only crushed when memories are gone, and the invincible cogs of society grind on in the invisible wind. The midnight soliloquy will never be heard and the rest can only lush and blue for so long.
Memories. The twilight jingle of a music box rusts, leaving its tone mute for all of time. The moment may be forgotten, but emotion will dwell to the grave. The same suit will take course for friends, mentors, and children until your world is nothing but a memory that the cogs have marched beyond. Still, this meaningless part of existence cannot bring you down, as purpose takes precedence over this shallow fact.
Pride. No matter philosophy or judgement, this is your moment. You can set the sail wherever you choose to, as the sea is now open. Opportunities await, but you take heed of danger and consequence. The world is changing, and so is yours. You could not see its beginning or end, but you have control over yours. You have survived the first round, but you are just getting started. The end is the beginning, and the beginning is the end.
Whether or not there be parades or shrines, memories of your accomplishment are engraved. The song may never be sung, but it will always exist. The final day is over, but there is still the next one. Time may march on, but our stories are what give it meaning.
While I have no idea what I just wrote, I hope you could at least think and reflect on everything. Unlike last summer, I will not be leaving for an extended period of time so you can expect posts in both July and August! This was my fiftieth post on the blog, and I can guarantee (just like the story said) I am just getting started. 🙂