Sometimes, when I'm waiting for someone to finish using the computer in the IC office, I tend to walk around a bit and sometimes I go and check this plaque of recognition lying flat over these huge metal lockers containing IC's important files. This plaque lists the names of the recipients of the Baldomero Olivera - Lourdes Cruz Award since 2000 (or 2001? Can't really remember). I still feel a thrill when I see my name on it. The thrill of being commemorated, to be a part of history. That assuming Pav 1 stays fire-free, other people will get to look at it and wonder who the fucking hell is Bryan Christian N. dela Isla? Sometimes I actually run my finger over my name just to convince myself that it was real. I don't linger too long on it though because I do not want another unwanted rumor about me being hatched inside the IC office.
I actually do not feel proud of myself because I was able to make it in that small plaque. Academic achievement has long lost its allure to me. I feel happy maybe (who wouldn't?) but mostly I feel sad and nostalgic when I'm tracing the letters of my name. It brings me back to the time when my intellectual prowess was respected and can be relied upon. Everytime I compare that student to who I am now, I cannot help but shake my head and smile ruefully. God, it seems like I'm the only one who has changed too much too fast. I list the names of my friends in my head and I conclude that more or less, they are still roughly who they were ten years ago. Even I couldn't have predicted I'd grow up to be the "Bry" people know now. The Bryan then almost seems to be a completely different person.
I still remember back then how I wished to be known for more than my brain. How I wished that people will see me in a different light because it was sickening to be stereotyped. Like everytime I attempt to play some sport and I fail to impress, they murmur that my muscles are all in my brains. Well, my performance is still miserable when it comes to sports, but I believe I was successful in destroying that goody-goody nerdy square image people were attaching to me. I proved them wrong eventually. I was actually so successful that I completely turned the situation around.
Now when people look at me, they see a delinquent! They see this irresponsible, party person focused only on following his dreams. They see trouble. They see a person waiting to explode. And why shouldn't they? I've given them ample reasons to judge me that way. If only they knew that it was my objective in the first place, I wonder how would they react?!
I'll be a hypocrite if I say that I don't get worried about what I've become. I'm aware that maybe I've gone too far in proving my point that I am so much more than a good student. In fact, you can say that I actually ignored the whole academic aspect of my life altogether, to the point that I'm already on tenterhooks about the state of my teaching career. I should be gnawing my nails with anxiety but I'm not. Honestly, I am rather amused at the whole situation. It worries me sometimes, especially when my adviser drops by, frowning, and asks me about my progress and I can clearly see the look of disbelief on her face when I say I'm doing okay (I can't blame her, she only means well). And yet I can't make myself worry about it too much. My transformation has taken care of my attitude about these things too.
The thing is, I've allowed myself to grow independently of the Institute. When they were at the point of chucking me out, it got me worried, but I was comforted by the confidence that I have that I will be okay, in or out of UP. That whatever tragedy befalls my career, I am aware of my skills and strengths, and I know that I'll get by and I'll be able to make the best out of the situation. My friends often catch me having coffee alone, walking alone, watching movies alone and quickly, they think that I'm only being emo. What I was really doing, aside from those things, is I was thinking and reassessing myself. I look back on my experiences about love and life and learning and try to develop them into a store of knowledge which I can draw on whenever I needed to. I organize them, and it helps me hone my thought processes, analyze my feelings, and enhance my problem solving skills. My writing is a part of it. My album-making is another. Talking to myself (voice lowered, mind) is another one.
My point is, that even if it may appear to others that I was idle, my brain is continuously working. I may not have made any significant investments in my career perhaps, but it did not mean that I was doing nothing. I used the extra time to invest in myself and I'm happy because it seems like that was a thing I should have done a long time ago. This new outlook in life, this solitary contentment, this bright attitude - these are the rewards of all those times I devoted to myself.
I look back on who I was. I look at where I am now, and think of what I might be in the future. Some things may be in worse condition, some unchanged, some better. But all in all, I am ecstatic. Because I seem to be taking a path which is dissimilar to all the others. It is becoming clearer that I seem to be growing in a different way compared to my peers. I'm not getting rich. I'm not getting laid everyday. I'm not safely ensconced in a rock solid job but this understanding that none of those really matter much in the long run. That understanding of life I wouldn't trade for anything else.
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