Dreamers never want to let go.
Dreams, even the grandest, would not last: everything, no matter how beautiful and wonderful it may be, has an end. An end we all have to accept.
But having an end, dreams are always the pinnacles of happiness where one can experience a perfect state of drama and euphoria. Some dreams may have nightmarish endings, but before the gloom, they start with a flash of catharsis.
I was already on my third year in the University when I applied for staff writer in the Sports section of the Varsitarian. As a Journalism student, passionate and desirous about having my works published, the Varsitarian was everything for me. It was Varsitarian or bust.
But despite that, I thought that the Varsitarian was a mere student publication. I hadn’t expected it would provide me the experience that would be life-changing.
It also fed into my hubris. Here I was, having my own desk, covering games, conducting interviews and in the process, thinking that I was a big honcho on campus. Only the frequent reminders from co-staffers, friends and elders not to let elite Varsitarian membership get into my head checked my arrogance.
After a year in Sports, I was promoted as Features editor. Although I had wanted to remain a sports writer, I took the challenge.
A further challenge was belonging to the batch that would organize the Valik Varsi alumni homecoming. Alas, the Varsitarian was entering its 85th year and it has been a tradition to hold a reunion every five years.
So we, Batch 2012-2013, had no choice but to organize the Varsitarian alumni reunion.
It was a dream come true for me as I got to meet all of the greats of the Varsitarian pantheon.
Looking at the journalism and literary titans from the Varsitarian was like looking at Valhalla: They were the gods that pioneered almost everything in Philippine mass media and I was a mere mortal dreaming of joining them in their gleaming halls of ivory, silver and gold.
They were the people that established an 85-year dynasty that can never be toppled by detractors and enemies of the Varsitarian. They built their castle inside the very walls of the 402-year-old University of Santo Tomas.
After the Valik Varsi reunion last Janaury, I immediately realized I had but only a few months to remain in the “V.” It left me to ponder if I would be part of a batch that would leave its own legacy in campus journalism history.
Two years have passed since I joined the paper and here I am the same way I came in, sitting on a desk and in a state of turmoil. Sure it’s the end of the journey for me but it’s now the time for others, especially the newcomers, to handle the reins of the V.
I cannot hold on to something that other people should have the chance to become a part of. It has been a fun two-year experience. Sadness may come, but I have to accept it as part of my journey in letters.
I have to pass on the torch to the next batch of staffers.
I leave behind my two years of laughter, drama, struggles and euphoria. I have experienced what only a handful of people have been privileged to experience, that is, to carry the glorious, golden yoke known as the Varsitarian.
And now, as I wake up to another sunrise, I can’t help but look back to the two years of sun-sustained experience that has shaped me into who I am now. It has been a dream experience whose memories will support me as I confront the so-called real world. Two years have been short for a very beautiful dream, but I know I have woken up recharged and reenergized, a better writer and a much better man.
