After a final glance at my last research paper and printing such laborious work out in the Learning Commons, handing it in finally signifies an official epilogue of the days sitting in classes and library corner from dawn till dusk. I should have felt much reassured and lighthearted to survive my final year after months of endeavour and tedious journal readings. Yet in reality, my regular footsteps hung heavily with the springing up of mixed feelings: the feeling of nostalgia about student life, the joy of waiting-to-be-graduated, and the confusion of my future plans.
I have neither intended to halt my regular writings, nor have I abandoned this blog despite my silence in these three months. The city life, seems to be fascinating at first glimpse, is however in fact so hasty in its way of life that you could hardly breathe. Nowadays, messages are unrehearsed and responses are quickly jotted off at the heat of the moment. How easy, despite awkwardly, chats are mainly about weary contents which are no more than what we did and where we went. Wrapping myself up with sequences of collaboration, I feel much at ease to be alone, to slow down my pace and to create chains of thought-provoking words. In such serenity and far away from those hectic life, I let my blooming thoughts spur, spurring like a running fountain. It is as if delving deep into a comfort zone that allows me to brainstorm, to smooth my tedious mind, and let my soul wander.
“Speak up. You are too quiet. Don’t be so shy.” My class teacher told me.
And in the last day of schooling, the remark of my report card was more or less like that: “There are rooms for improvement. She should be more sociable.”
These comments have uncomfortably plagued me during my entire primary and secondary school life. If you knew me few years ago in class, you would probably realize I was the reticent one who shut her mouth and keep herself to herself. In the past, I was so on edge, as if butterflies in my stomach, in any form of public gathering. When I drummed up courage to speak for a while, it triggered great response when my schoolmates exclaimed in surprise that I finally said something. While amidst the interactions with large groups of new acquaintances, my anxiousness kept overwhelming me, which in turn, my tongue-tied words were mixed up as if something went wrong. To escape these embarrassing scenarios, how much I would like to immediately crawl back into my protective shell to seek self-comfort. Throughout those years, I have been struggling to search for my own inner voice, and to have faith to express myself well. How weird people must have thought of me. Being an introvert only makes me feel like shouldering bulky burden.