(written: November 22, 2005)

But I never thought then that after college I would never use a tape recorder again.  I guess I have always pictured myself doing journalism work.  I guess I have always dreamed of seeing myself out there and living in a world that I have longed and hoped to be in one day when I’m ready.   Sometimes I see colleagues on TV, hear and read their names.  I wonder why all of them are where they are supposed to be—doing what they studied in college and prepared themselves for, when I ended up being here—definitely not hell but far from being my paradise. 

I am afraid of losing the fire in me, the fire that drives me into writing whatever I want and whenever it’s needed.  I am afraid of waking up one day and all I could write about are feelings of desperation and sad stories of love.  I am afraid of not making sense.  I’m afraid of not being who I want to be anymore.  I am afraid of giving up my passion and dreams.

When I see the journalism students now, I get the weirdest feeling. I envy them because they have that desire, the desire to shout to the world the grievances of those who were not allowed to speak, the desire of finally making a difference through their writing.  I envy the freedom that they have.  I envy their freedom to choose their destiny.  I envy them because they never had to blink their eyes to see their futures clearly.

But then I realized I also had those chances, I also used to have those desires. Maybe it wasn’t my personal responsibility that stopped me, maybe it wasn’t this place that imprisoned me, maybe there was really no room for one more of us in the business, maybe I was the last one to arrive when the boat started to sail, maybe the fault was all mine.

But maybe it’s not too late to catch the boat or maybe the boat will come again to fetch me and those who never wanted to let go of their desires and those who never killed the fire in their hearts but had to stay for a while.

Maybe this is the prelude of a beautiful journey that I will take. I will wait for the boat. I will long for my journey. I will dream of myself being there, unnoticed but making a difference.

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