A FELLOW editor once asked me, “When you know that you only have limited time, would you not spend it to its fullest?”

And here I am, indulging what little space the Varsitarian pages allot me for.

This is supposed to be my last, my farewell—so to speak. I would like to grasp this opportunity to share a little bit of my story, to say my thanks and to bid my goodbyes.

And to make it worth its while, I use this space wisely—dividing this piece into three parts to prepare for my inevitable departure.

My story

“With great power comes great responsibility,” that’s what Uncle Ben told Peter.

If I were to compare my college life with nerdy Peter Parker’s transformation into the amazing Spider-Man, might I say I was bitten by the Varsitarian and then Bam! I’m not saying that I turned into a superhero and went out saving lives, but I had the opportunity to do public service for the Thomasian community. Not everyone is given the chance to do this, and I’m grateful for the opportunity. I sincerely hope the readers felt the same way.

The “V” is just like the formation of the world’s mightiest superheroes—the Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited them, and ta-dah, you have a wide array of freaky people striving for the same cause. The staffers of this paper were chosen by a selection committee just like how S.H.I.E.L.D. would do super-powered crime-fighting weirdos, though instead of fighting crime, we write and report it.

Forgive the vanity or the immaturity non-comic book fans might deem of comparing a bunch of students tasked with publishing a fortnightly campus paper with characters enhanced with superpowers whose aim is to save the world one day at a time.

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But the “V” helped me in more ways than the fingers on my hand. They even literally saved my life once.

I had always wanted to make a huge difference just like the make-believe characters I look up to. And the overly ambitious Hotel and Restaurant Management student from the College of Tourism and Hospitality Management that I was, I didn’t hesitate to be part of something big—and I think I achieved just that, I am writing about it, and you are reading about it, nice! Mission complete!

My thanks

To my family, you deserve more credit than you give yourselves. The undying support and love you had given me never failed to inspire me to aim higher. Though the guilt of having lost quality time with you for the past two years still haunts me, I hope I made you proud. I love you!

To Tibo, Itim and Puwet, all’s well that ends well. Though I may have left a year ahead of you, I know we will forge on with our friendship. Cheers to the unborn memories we are bound and yet to create. My “V” life would never be complete without you.

To Paeng and Melai, the older sisters I never had, thank you for the kindness and the open-armed welcome, that even though we are not of the same batch, we still managed to form a tight bond with the three mentioned before you.

To Sarah, my successor as the Literary editor of this prestigious paper, may writing never leave your system. I hope I had imparted the knowledge and experience that kept my motor running throughout my stay. Thank you for your support and in helping me keep the literary boat afloat.

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To Patty, Nikka and Cliffy, my partners in gluttonous crimes, I now plan on shedding the pounds you helped me collect.

To “Da Boys,” Jan B, Bong and Sher, though I may be different in more ways than one, I am happy we jived well. I’d like to do another road trip with you guys in the near future, and more tea parties! Fist bump!

To “Team Bitin,” Simang and JT (who happens to be my roommate), who were the emotional pillars I hung on to for most of the year, I am lucky to have been very close to you, even though you only spent one year with us in “V.”

To our publications adviser, Sir Lito, never have I been called “illiterate” in my entire life and then got the most heartwarming message by and from the same person. Thank you for the tough love and kind words, I owe you a lot.

To the man upstairs, though I have no intention to meet you just yet, I’d like to give you a virtual hi-five. Thanks for everything!

My farewell

It all boils down to this. Like the cream puffs I so sorely drool over, it is time to take the pastry out of the oven. Pull me out too early and I might be undercooked, take me out later and I’d be burnt. Metaphorically speaking, I am ready to leave, and I am more than happy to do so.

“All good things must come to an end,” they say.

So if it’s ending, then it must’ve been good, no?

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