This semester has been nothing, but a fun-filled rollercoaster with rust rails and bumps along the ride. I won’t say I didn’t lock my seatbelt, but I might have forgotten it has one. I have endured short hours of sleeps, which, honestly, just takes a small amount of time to practice, and high pressures on my academic activities. I deserve [okay, maybe I demand] a little party toast for this!
I had three major subjects that focuses on my writing and thinking skills. Who was I to decline such wondrous offer, especially since I breathe writing? Little did I know how exhausting and frustrating it was to come up with a polished output.
In my News & Feature Writing and Publication Management classes, we [my class] had to publish a print—a choice between a magazine or a newspaper. It was an open opportunity for us so we decided to create both. I was ecstatic when our chosen Editor-in-Chief announced we would be having a Literary section (my eyes went round while my lips trembled as I tried—truly tried—to contain my overflowing euphoria). She [Editor] called my name as her choice for the section’s editor and the class agreed. Oh, boy, I appeared nonchalant—nodding stoically—just to suppress the roars of the lions between my lungs.
In my Broadcasting Principles and Practices, our professor gave us an overview as to what we could expect would happen in our class; right guess, everyone: radio and television productions. I pushed down my knees through my curled fists to prevent my legs from shaking too much. This was a fresh experience to me; I knew we would be having lessons about productions, but to actually do it live? I did not think I could.
There was a paradise of pens and papers when the three classes surged forward. My Literary team had to write at least 5 pieces of writings for our magazine and 2 pieces of writings for our newspaper. Along the way, I had to edit and give my insights to each of my teammates compiled writings [we were 7 in our team] before I submit it to our Copy Editor. While this happened in our publication room, the other half of my brain needed to think of radio and television scripts for my next class. I wanted to write so I asked my group if I could be their production scriptwriter; when they gave me the chance, I poured out my anger, madness and sentiments through scriptwriting [and the announcers were reading them as if they were not satires, ha!].
My head spun and bent in a hurricane motion yet I could not stop. This was the eye of my soul [writing]; I just could not turn my back on it. Even if it was stressful and tiring, I believe it is very rewarding and elicits ecstasy; I have loved every minute I have spent in writing flash fictions [for our publications] and scripts. I would not trade anything for it.
So, imagine my surprise and shock when, yesterday, the hosts of my course’s annual gathering revealed I am the Broadcast Journalism’s Writer of the Year!
I was not able to stand up from my seat in a sudden as I tried to understand what they [hosts] meant. My friends were looking at me while they flagged their hands to the stage. When their messages sunk in me, I stood up to take the award.
I have already appreciated a small ‘thank you’ in a soft voice for every sweat I caused in writing; as long as my professors were ‘satisfied’ with the writings and scripts of my team, I would always feel as if I slept in clouds. But to be able to have this award is a time I will remember in my head and heart. My smile won’t grow weary of this heavenly feel I have.
Success comes in various forms—it can be as small as someone thinks your blog is amazing. I know everybody deserves this, but it will take a lot of time before you reach it. Just don’t give up. Sometimes, I am on the verge of falling apart, but I remind myself I will be empty if I break as early as now. You have put yourself in passion for you to be able to see the light in thousand nights and always keep your faith high to God.
I love to see my name printed on a certificate; it brings glow into my tainted heart. Just like you, I have waited for my relief. We may not be holding the hands of the clock, but I know that tomorrow will see you through to give you your wondrous and magical day!
WORD COUNT: 793
Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.