I cradled my hot bowl of fresh-off-the-stove mac and cheese, padding to my room.
“Stinks, mam’s calling you in the kitchen,” I said, grabbing my little brother’s butt. He squirmed out of reach with a squeal and dashed out of sight.
I plopped my own onto my bed, inhaling the aroma of cheesy goodness I contemplate the possibilities of tomorrow. Statistics and Bio paper 4. I’m not going to even bother to wonder about the odds that I’ll pass or not, not when I haven’t gone about writing them as yet. My study of the stats syllabus is incomplete but admittedly much easier than Pure Maths, I’ll do what I can. I swallowed a huge warm spoonful.
AL Biology is more familiar, friendlier turf not necessarily simple but I like the challenge. I hadn’t completed my reading in time, I can only blame myself. I stayed up till this morning dismantling the seemingly complicated processes of the Krebs Cycle and oxidative phosphorylation. It’s kind of funny how last year when I wrote the first half of same test I didn’t understand some things, this year again still but it was only recently these blocks and bits of concepts began to assemble and click into place. I had to keep knocking around these ideas and assumptions, these proven facts of life and it’s tangible components, otherwise I won’t learn anything at all. It’s a glorious feeling, enlightenment.
These courses demand more responsibility on my part rather than on my professor, in the beginning I was afraid, reluctant even. Then I though to myself, “here I am, this person who thinks she can be independent and self reliant, for how long am I going to wait on someone to give me what I want? It doesn’t work like that. Buck up!”
I’m coming to terms with taking my interests in my own hands, me shaping me from the raw materials up to whatever what I see myself becoming. I am soft, rich clay. I am the vase that will sculpt itself into functional work of art, even if to be admired by myself alone in some obscure corner.
I can’t let my parents take the brunt of the effort. It’s my life and I have to live it. I realize belatedly that I’m growing up, finally. Maturing happens on several levels; mentally, physically … and personality-wise I guess and each happens at its own pace. I can have the body and faculties a nineteen year old girl usually posses but I could’ve still been a clingy ten year old kid hanging on mommy’s apron string. I’ve developed a healthy appreciation for exams because not only am I testing my knowledge on academics but also the extent of my will, resolve and persistence, my belief that my life will be better as long as I squeeze my all into it.
Everything starts off with a purpose, a dream. How badly do I want it depends on how much I’ll invest my energy and assets. My want to live is often overwhelming, it’s painful. I’m constrained by the malleable iron bars of ignorance, and I want out. I’m not going to bang my head against the cold iron anymore, and there’s a high chance I’ll go mad from isolation – not to mention concussion. I’m getting me a blowtorch.
I return to my forgotten mac and cheese, the cool noodles stiff with rigor. Absently, I lifted one up for inspection. Then chewed on it, not fretting over tomorrow when all I have is today, and it’s not even enough.
“You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.”
― Maya Angelou