On graduation. Premature thoughts.


There are some days in which things look gloomy, days in which everything seems grey and all I’m supposed to do doesn’t happen in just a day. There are days in which I want to succeed in just a day, to know exactly what is going to happen, step by step, so I could do it better when I am supposed to do it. What I sometimes forget is that everything that is life altering never happens when I plan it. These are the events that have a way of their own, that are worth remembering and worth living, the things I know deep down that are going to make my life memorable. But don’t we all sometimes want to just know?

Well…I do.

Sometimes they all hit me at the same time and I want to accomplish everything at the same time, as my boyfriend likes to put it. There are my parents that think that my being a teacher is just a matter of time, since I major in English and French literature, and do I actually think I am going to be a translator after studying that? Then there is me not knowing what the future holds, but holding tight to this idea that I want to become a translator, get a well paid job doing what I love. Which is not teaching. Honestly, I would become anything else but a teacher, if only I knew what that was. But I don’t. Then there are my friends who start saying these really fancy things cause they just love my field or their field, or my field combined with their field, like they are burning Nietzsche and Kant, and Ancient Greek through their arse from infancy. And I am like “I just wanna graduate from this thing so I can do my MA in that really awesome thing, so I can have a shimmer of hope that shines brighter than now that I’m gonna be a translator, maybe work with the European Union, somehow. ” That is big and that is bold, but God, I love both big and bold.

And it’s scary. I hold on to my wish of becoming everything they say I am not gonna become, but sometimes all I want to do is crawl into bed and not think about it. My friends are all excited, some of them even have their final paper’s title and I’m like “I never truly obsessed on anything I studied so far” Only got excited when we got a practical course in Translations but that was only for one semester, two hours of feeling like a future/ potential expert in that. Then seas of novels I’ll never fully manage to read before the exams, hearing more about colleagues who in turns become addicted to something, as subjects change from semester to semester and there are plenty of choices.  And then you reach that point in which you realize it was all fun and games, until you submit your resume to your dream job and they tell you you don’t have experience enough for your dream job. Then you apply to a place where you could get the experience for your dream job and they turn you down for the same reason. Then you go to college and you have this great French course where your teacher actually looks through each and every one of you students and sees potential, sees talent and dedication and for some time it numbs it. You feel important, cause you wrote something and the teacher loved it and then you go home and you read it over and over again, like you’ve just been accepted to some big publishing house or to some great program and you just can’t believe that someone could see through you, could see you were special.

Next year, I am gonna graduate. I am gonna have that thingie on my head and I’ll hold my diploma, while the orchestra will be singing Gaudeamus Igitur and I’ll turn into Wonder Woman and cry cause it’s over. Final paper or not, I have some thoughts rumbling through my head about it, so I am not totally hopeless. I just finished the first four books of Game of Thrones and I’m letting the fifth one devour me next year. It’s intoxicating, really. And I hope that everyday my purpose shall become clearer and opportunities will arise accordingly, so I can make my Mom and Dad proud and then do whatever I was going to do anyways and be happy.

Is that too much to ask?


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