Stanislaw Warda: Some parts of my brain rebel

He only said “Congratulations” and handed it to me. 

He looked polite, was, gently, but old. 

I looked at it, and I must admit, I was a little disappointed. 

It was written on stiff white paper with black fancy words. 

Was it worth it? 

Was it worth spending a long-time poring over books, when I do not remember at least half of the material? 

I do not know, but when I held it, I felt disappointed. 

“What do you want?” I said to myself. 

You probably want half of this office to stand, look at you like you are a movie star, clap, and applaud you. 

I smiled sheepishly and looked at it again. 

“I do not know if it was worth it, but at least it is good that I have my diploma,” I thought.

 

I looked around. 

It was a well-known, old lobby with small offices, a couple rows of used benches, a small cafe corner, and two cashiers, which mercilessly charged me almost 1,500 dollars per month. 

I sat among a few young students.

They were similar in age to me when I attended this school, but since my graduation I have become different from them.  

I am more similar to the old man who handed me my diploma.

Somehow, I did not want to sit next to those young people. 

I felt through my skin that I did not match with them. 

I stood up and moved to a small counter to buy a coffee. 

The only difference in this place was the price of my favorite “hazelnut americano.” 

It was almost double the cost now.

 

These thoughts would be part of my Karma for the many years I wasted when there was a perfect time to study when I was younger.

I could not get rid of this thought, although it should be my day. The day of some celebration, anyway. 

I tried to celebrate and recalled some funny or less funny situations from that time. 

The situation when some of my classmates made fun of me when I could not pronounce some specific words is still very vivid.

I remember those ironical faces and sometimes comments which  are funny to me now. 

It’s funny that among many words which I could not understand, I remember the swearing and words connected with sexual matters.

What I can say: it is just human nature to learn those “useful” words. 

I left and went to an almost empty parking lot. 

My car still looked good. 

Sure,  in an empty parking lot any junk looks good; I thought with sarcasm. 

I looked at the huge complex building of my school and thought, “What had  it been through all those years? 

My second home, my library, my discussion club, but also my night club, where I could have my pipe dreams and enjoy my after-hours ideas.

Some parts of my brain rebel. 

The old thoughts were still in my mind, although I held my diploma with some reverence. 

I laminated it, put it into an elegant cover, which I bought for this purpose at Macys.