Diem Carpe
My year in a poem, a few
sentences, a few stanzas,
seemed, seems impossible
but nothing is impossible.
So here I go, here it is.
It all started with who I could be,
who I would be, should be, wanted to be,
with bright chemical explosions in the sky,
with smoke in the air, in my hair.
Who I could, should, would be,
wondering how it must feel like
to be so sure of yourself, of
everything and everyone around you,
wondering, hoping someday I'll know.
It all started with a project:
spending practically the entire summer
volunteering for more credits in
the school library with my best friend. Seems
boring to other people but, to me,
was the best summer I've ever had.
Having to actually get out of the house
for once and do something called
"socialize"
Something I never thought I'd do,
Something I never wanted to do to
begin with.
Yet something miraculous
happened, nearly four years of waking up
at the same time, hating that campus, that
ground, I grew close with the staff there,
realized that they actually did care, about us,
our futures, the rest of our lives. And so
I came out of my shell, out from under
my rock like Patrick Star, almost knowing,
almost becoming who I could, should, would be,
stuck with the feeling, the unbelievable,
never-in-a-million-years, unimaginable feeling
that I did not want to leave,
regretfully realizing that I was missing out
on so much.
Suddenly Autumn comes, I find myself
stuck in between with choices to make,
applications to fill, deadlines to meet,
realizing that I need to know soon.
Realizing that I'll need answers soon to the
endless stream of questions:
Where am I going? What am I doing?
What am I going to do?
They tell me to do what I love and
they tell me to love what I do. But also
something realistic, something worthwhile.
Nothing is impossible but it is impossible
to make anything out of an Art Degree,
"What are you gonna do with an Art Degree?"
It is impossible to follow your dreams.
It is impossible to do what you love and
love what you do.
I was stuck in the middle,
even until the beginning of December,,
still am, terrified I always will be,
wondering for so long what the world
would look like if we all weren't so
dependent on material things.
But it ends like this: some people say that
hope and faith and destiny are all
bullshit. But I envy people who do
believe in something. People who are so
sure of something, of themselves, of
other people, of what happens, what has
happened, what's going to happen.
I thought about who I could, should, would be
as I watched the lights in the sky, the flickers,
heard the booms, saw and smelled the smoke in
the air, in my hair, looked at other people
around me, my family, friends (old and new,
close and just acquainted),
or even complete strangers, realized that
there are people are out there who
don't have a clue either, who are just like me,
wishing I could, should, would be
someone better.
I've heard a quote once from the very end
of a movie called Boyhood, it goes:
"You know how they say 'Seize the moment'?
Well, I think it's the other way around.
Like the moment is seizing us."
It is.
The rest of my life starts now,
it always has.
And I think because I looked up
at everyone around me, realizing that
we are all confused, under the
same sky, on the same planet Earth,
trying our best because that's all we
can do, that's all any of us have,
trying to look for reasons, the reason
to wake up in the morning,
because of this,
I'm not as afraid anymore.
I don't feel so alone.
Where I am now, Wherever I'm going,
Wherever I've been, Whoever I will be,
Whoever I've been, Whoever I am, that
I can't tell you because
I'm still trying to figure it out
myself.