by dotielicious
 |
Looking back, Gumbal National High SchoolPhoto taken by Arwen Mica Elle Perez |
I tread on the silence of a million words. I am a wayfarer, traveling in the orifices of time and the will of the world. The pen is my compass, the blotches of ink are my footprints, and the fibers locked together in every piece of paper constitutes the woven fate of an aspiring journalist. I am lost but I found myself. Crossing different bridges to reach this destination has held me on edge. Luckily, the echoes of voices and the thrum of the music lulls the jitters in my heart to dance with the fires of the sun shining upon the blues and yellows of Guimbal National High school. Entering the the gates of the school, albeit it not be the first, the windows to my soul have yet again been captured by it's enthralling warmth of welcome. I can feel its embrace as sweat trickles down every pore from my face to the back of my neck. I ran. I ran towards the opening ceremony. Click click click, the sound of my camera shutter goes. I ran, I ran up the slopes to reach the other side. There I met a pair of eyes, familiar and nuclear. It too reflected what I held in mine. I ran, and I never stopped. I scanned around and took a second to step back and look so that I could feel myself living in the moment. There I see determination in the eyes of the youth, the undying Shakespeare and Rizal ringing in the hearts of each writer. And I too felt its blaze, as if my soul were on fire and its roaring flames can only be tranquilized by the calming waters of journalism. I looked at the name "Guimbal National High School" and happy memories came flooding in. I smiled, willing to be lost once more. I crossed the road, facing another school I have yet to conquer.