Fifteen minutes of fame

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I’m done with all my application papers; after I sending them tomorrow to a university in Denmark, all I need to do is wait and proceed with my original plans. I feel free, although that little feeling of fear of the uncertain bothers me a bit from time to time. Two more months left in this foreign country and I’m on my way to something I’ve never tried before-finding a real job like the rest of my classmates in UP did right after we finished college. I am not scared of rejection; I fear myself more.

I didn’t know it’s going to be this scary. I’ve never openly admitted that failure frightens me. It does.

Writing this post is difficult. Sometimes it’s worth asking whether what we are writing at the moment has already been written by someone a long time ago, and whether it is still worth the effort expressing something that has already been expressed before by someone who existed but failed to leave a mark and died with him his anonymous self.

I read that all of us are entitled to fifteen minutes of fame, nonsense I thought. Some people are too greedy to glutton on those fifteen minutes, and unsatisfied, stole other people’s fifteen-minutes. Why can’t we just have equal distribution of those fifteen-minutes of fame so that we’ll all die contented individuals?

Humans are funny beings.

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An old neighbor of ours died five days ago. She died a quiet death, no garb or intrigues. A death befitting a woman who never spoke in her entire life, never cried, didn’t show any emotion at all. I remember my siblings and I used to call her Auntie Manay and teased her sometimes because she acted like an eight-year old although she was in her late 50s. We were too young to understand then. The last time I saw her was eight years ago. I’m now 22, too old to understand, but I’ll never comprehend her anymore for she will not anymore be there when I go back home.

She never had her fifteen-minute.

So for me who is just starting and as scared as a small chick separated from the mother hen I’ll probably forget about my share of the fifteen minutes and do what I am supposed to do – conquer what there is to conquer and write about my exploits, successful ones, and yes, even those that bombed.