Vita in progress

Fragment 2: To Thine Own Self Be True

In a world full of claims and crests, 
Where even ethical entities flaunt their alliances, 
Echoes of past glories rest, 
Built on countless written and unwritten utterances.

If one is a thorn in the flesh,
It's the higher authority's decision lies,
Yet, only free will she has,
To seek the truth behind disguise.

To follow a path less traveled,
Her journey is her own to mold,
Sincerity, she unraveled,
Resigned, but bold.

But rise, oh spirit, brave and free, 
To chart the course of the heart's desire, 
Not bound by what the masses see, 
Nor tethered by tradition's mire.

In halls where even the walls whisper tales,
Where time and loyalty seldom trail, 
Hold fast, as the truth prevails,
In search of light, your soul sails.

The past, a part of the narrative vast,
The story now, self-detailed,
With every mistake, wisdom amass, 
And in every triumph, experience hailed.

So carve your path with a steady hand, 
With self-adherence as your stand, 
For every trial that helps you grow,
Let gratitude and confidence bestow.

***

Fragment 1: A Chameleon

I was 22. I was reckless. Well, I am still reckless, but about different things.

I was 22. I thought, “Just go for what’s in front of you.” I did this for survival, experience, and financial reasons.

I was 22. I had an undergraduate degree with more than satisfactory results, but I didn’t know what to do.  

I had a chance to stay. But, it was so unclear. Had I had more privilege, I might have taken the shot. I did not have it. The option to stay would be a financial burden. Well, my plan wasn’t clear, either.

I was 22. I had my freedom. I’ve been staying in a different city, hundreds of kilometres away from my parents, since college. But this time was different.

I was 22. I had no clue what to do. I was reckless. I packed my bag and went to the capital city, where I tried my luck.

I was 22. I was naive. I had no clue that people could be so cunning. I thought all people were good people. “What were you thinking?” say me now. I walked kilometres every morning. I rationed my meals to eat one normal portion twice, brunch and dinner. Well, the normal portion is usually two portions for me. My toes blistered. I lost some weight. 

I was 22. I thought people would behave the way I imagined them to. I turned down a job for this and stupidly came again and asked them to reconsider me. What a dumb! But I never regretted that I turned it down.

I was 22. The reality hit me: find a job. I landed an interview. There was a friend. I forgot her name. She was nice. The interviewer asked why I wanted the job. I said it was in my blood, but my answer was not satisfying. The interviewer eventually replied, “Well, it meant you only want to be a white-collar worker”. Touché.

I was 22. Higher education saved me. Probably because they thought my English was good. It was -and still is- so-so. I took the job and started standing on my own feet more solidly. But, it was too murky. I could not picture what I wanted. I was still naive. I could tolerate some things, and I still believe in people when they tell me, “It is already arranged; it’s legal.” I believed them. 

But eventually, I diverted. I must admit: it was not because of the morality question, as their arguments convinced me, but because something “cooler” was on the horizon.

I think I’ve turned 23 at this point. I got into a “cool” place. But I guessed people looked down at me. Well, I didn’t care. I was reckless. I did what was on my table. I did things that I considered giving me a “new experience.”

I was 23. I obeyed everything because my workplace had established its reputation. It’s cool to get hired by this company, at least at that time. I did everything. I was not good. Someone once said, “She’s not bad, but it means she’s not good either.” 

Those faint-hearted might go home crying. I did not. I only scrunched my eyebrows. It was a reflex. I had no intention. It just happened that way. Another time, someone said, “No need to double-check. I will eventually overhaul everything.” Those faint-hearted might go to the restroom crying. I did not. 

I told myself, “My target is no longer to survive this job and place. My target is to get to a point where this person makes only the smallest change to my work or even none at all.” I did, and we’ve been friends for years now.

I was 23. I tried to conform and fit into the job I was entitled to, to get recognition, survive, and tolerate changes. But I didn’t want them to change me. 

I was 23. I did what they wanted me to. I changed colours. I was a chameleon. A better way to say it, I adapted to time and situation. To survive. Or to wait for another “new experience” to come. I dressed how street vendors and a 5-star hotel concierge could welcome me. I put my suit jacket inside my bag while hopping from one place to another, from a bus to another. Sometimes, I take taxis. But, it was not practical.

I was 23. I was calm and cold. I approached things the way I would be accepted. Am I a people-pleaser? Maybe. But for sure, I did not express emotion because I often could not 100% trust what people said. I could not agree or disagree. I stated things plainly so that others could use their common sense.