I am currently cleaning out my room, my shelves, and our library at home. I am clearing out the space to make more space, for the future, perhaps. Readings, papers, reports, hand outs, reviews, every memorabilia of the one time I spent trying to cram knowledge into my brain.

It's a wonder that my past four years in Diliman equates to one box of trash.

I have difficulty letting go of them. I can't believe that I spent the past few years accumulating what I have accumulated, and still feel empty.

Empty.

It may be that my mind is still empty, even after all those years of studying.

Or that my heart just isn't into it.

Has my life become as meaningless as piles of garbage I have stored over the years?

Forgive me for my nostalgia. I look back at what I was before, and with disdain I look now at what I am. I do not think this is the kind of me I should be, I believe I could have done a lot more or been a lot different than what I do or am now.

I look back and realize how much enthusiasm I put into studying, but gradually it wilted away into emptiness. I go to class half-heartedly, sometimes without even a heart at all.

So now that I'm living my academic life, I'm living it for what? I need a purpose, a light, somehow.

I feel as if I walked astray. I want to walk back home to myself.