Good afternoon my dear readers and I apologize for not posting an entry last week, I was busy writing a post for the OAR, which will feature me as a guest blogger in the next few weeks. I'm shooting for new experiences, and sometimes I really have to take a leap out there to get my foot in the door. And though I know that today is not Sunday nor Monday, I thought you'd rather have an entry late than none at all. So with that, let's begin!
From the very beginning of my writing this blog, I've been looking forward to many things, and counting down the days to reach them. Whether it was to the end of a semester, to a trip back home, for an upcoming concert or of a familiar visit, there was always something to look forward to. That was all great, and I'm sure I will feel the same in the future, but for the past couple of weeks, I have been keeping tabs of the ever fleeting days since for once, the certainty of it all is numbered. It is no longer a temporary fix that I'm looking forward to, but I found myself inching nearer to a cliff that leads off into an abyss of an unfriendly job market (as rumoured for someone with an arts degree) filled with adult responsibilities and expectations. I have always had the comfort of a safety net, and that was the reassurance of school. If I didn't have four years of university to make plans, I had four years of high school. If it wasn't four years of high school to plan where I'd study to ensure that I'd be able to get a good job, I was in middle and elementary school to make sure I had good grades and a good extra-curricular rapt sheet to boost my profile in high school.
All my life, I've been living it as a way to prepare for the next step I knew I was going to make. There was always time to make incredible memories and to go on great adventures. There was always time to figure out what I was going to do next. There was always time to save and prepare. There was always an assurance of more time to come. Now, with only 40 days left until I move out (34 until I've completed my undergrad), I realize that there really isn't any more time. And with that, I find myself being continuously asked what I'm going to do this summer, or come September. I find people even planning out more things for me, and giving me their own opinion as if it were the only rational path for me to take, when in reality I don't quite have a definitive clue of what's to come. I've spent this year preparing for the ending of a milestone in my life, as well as for the summer of celebration to come, but nothing much more for once the summer comes to its bittersweet end.
So with a ledge in front of me and nothing to catch me, the days continue to pass by at an alarming rate, yet I am not afraid (well not as much as I expected to be). I do not see myself being paralyzed by the uncertain unfolding of my future, but rather challenged by the blank slate I'm being offered. Therefore my dearest readers, do not fret the final countdown, because there will be others which will call for a much worse ending. Thus, I leave you today with the words of D.H. Lawrence: "Life is a traveling to the edge of knowledge, then a leap taken."
K.P.H.
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