Seven Realizations

To me, any picture of books, a collection of books, or a library, or even just a photograph of a wary stranger reading a book or a writer in her study desk writing is comparable to the pleasure of viewing porn to other people. I have an insanely irredeemable fetish on books that’s been emergent unremittingly and regularly. 

The tumultuous, nerve racking feeling brought about by being a freshman is priceless. I have seen the newly admitted young people in the campus and I am unaffectedly desirous of their thwacking excitement and the ignorance of the unknown things ahead. One time, I was just like them, standing by the sidelines, with no control of what’s going to unfold, smiling when awfully nervous and afraid and purely obedient of every little, and ostensibly hopeless rules in the campus.

What is worse than being useless? Being lazy and doing nothing and being of no use to the world are but little tastes of incomparable delight. Now that the campus is in high energy and revolting activity and stringent operations, I am bathing in glee and zeal of utmost stirring. I am, at once, plunked into University life and I am here to do what I have to do and that is to learn with severe regard towards service, harmony and excellence – the core values of my University.

Despite my convoluted schedule, tired legs from processing forms to all the admin offices, numbing fingers from writing, and exhausted mind from the stresses of people tearing me apart with responsibilities, I am still proud to be part of the university publication. This is the best campus involvement that happened in my entire life and I am starting to finally truly appreciate it. I am an FD writer and what is more good-sounding, outstanding and empowering than being part of this organization, filled with interesting people of varying interests. They influence me, swathe me with a little piece of their world, and sincerely receive me, working towards one goal and that is to be of service with integrity, reliability and commitment. 

I am not handsome. I am far from being attractive. I am but just another piece of shell on the beach. Being a nineteen year old girl admitted in college and with the pleasure of walking to school every school day, it is not a trouble to see a handsome youth passing along the path or share a small talk with a fellow CAS student. Despite my life compelling me to be with people and meet wary strangers, I have hardly talked, or I can say almost never have I spoken to one. I am, as a human appreciate beauty and I possess certain homage for gallantry and fascination. I have met these qualities in a masculine shape and though I am allured in slight reverence to these countenances, I know, by instinct that they neither had nor could have sympathy with anything in me, even if I am cut out from a different mold. To me they are like lightning – they are bright but antipathetic. 

I love my family. They are the most important people on earth to me. I miss my parents and my little brother already. 

Being humble is in itself being free from yourself. I just experienced what true merit is, it is alike a deep river. One cannot discern its real depth by how it looks. It doesn’t make much noise but when one submerges himself in it, it is only, in that manner that he truly understands its proper worth.