Constellations Of A Dreamer

3

'What is the opposite of light?'
'Darkness.'
'And why is that?'
Silence.
'Light and dark are opposites, they have to be, right? two things that contradict each other so well can't be anything but opposites, it's logic, a simple theory to wrap your mind around'

'So you're telling me that light and dark can never merge?'
'No, I'm telling you that they can merge, but they are two contradicting things, they are the polar opposites of one another, at two ends of a spectrum'

I felt invigorated at the conversation I was having with my lecturer, the desire to question and to be asked questions were being fulfilled and I awaited her reply.

'Okay, that's good, that's understandable, so what will happen when light and darkness merge?'

'It creates a silver lining, a beam of silver that manifests itself as a standard human principle of hope or better things awaiting them.' The seminar class was silent and all stares were on me, it was not even scrutinising, more curious, they looked at me with awareness as though they had just realised now that I was a part of this room.

When the seminar ended, my lecturer said 'Okay, everyone can leave, but... Samara I want you to stay behind'

Once everyone had left, I carefully approached my lecturer, she was a gentle kind of woman, always smiling, never complaining like the others.
Her eyes were a vibrant brown, that didn't quite seem to share the same shade of a dark oak that my eyes were, but hers were golden, like a pot full of clear honey.

'I want you to enter a writing competition'

Confused, I hoped my eyes seemed to show her that I wasn't exactly understanding her concept.
She sighed 'Samara, you're meant to write, I've read your work and they're amazing, you have so much potential, I know you're not studying English but you don't have to, I see you pretending to pay attention in class when you're actually covertly writing in that notebook of yours. University is over in two days, your deadlines are done, you don't come back in another 5 or 6 months, tell me if you want to do it'

'I don't-'

'Take the philosophy we learnt today as a clue'

'I do like philosophy, but why do we even learn about philosophy, this is a teaching course'

'Philosophy in some way or the other taught us how to teach Samara, it's only we fair we give philosophers the credit and apply their teachings into our own'

She walked towards the door, but before she could leave I called out 'what's in it for me?'

With a warm gaze and an even warmer smile she said 'happiness' and the door closed behind her. I stood there alone, taking in the white walls and her words, and I buried it deep into my mind, but I wondered how today's lesson in any way could be a clue before hurrying to my dorm to continue packing for the trip home.

__________________________________________________________

Thursday was warm, but not too warm, the breeze moving through the air touched my skin making me feel better about what was to come, I lugged my suitcase to the bus stand and waited for the next bus that took me home, it was 1:15 in the afternoon, turning my head to the right, the breeze softly traced my face, my eyes were closed, and I felt as though my senses were heightened, the aroma of roses and lavenders intoxicated me and I couldn't seem to break away from this feeling of bliss that I wanted to stay for as long as possible.

'Samara'

I opened my eyes and there stood the lecturer who had spoken to me yesterday. She handed me a piece of paper, smiled and walked off before calling out behind her 'have a lovely time'

I felt somewhat irritated at her pestering, since today morning she had been trying to find me and I had hid away from her and her thoughts of me being something I didn't want to be, I don't understand why she so desperately wanted me to enter a writing competition, has writing become something of such a low value that now writers must enter into these silly things to prove their worth to themselves and others around them, and what did she mean about doing this will bring me happiness, she has no idea what happiness is, let alone what happiness is to me, I hated the fact that she thinks she knows me better than I know myself, and I hated that I couldn't even defend myself or argue about her lack of decision making when it came to students, after all, I'm just a student and she has no right to walk into my life and tell me what to do.

The bus I had been waiting for arrived, and so I scrunched up the paper without glancing at the words it held and put it into my pocket.

Believe it or not, it takes two hours to get home with the bus, and even though it was only two hours away I still decided not to go back home for a whole year. I could have always taken the train but I felt that that would be a fault against me, I disliked trains as much as I disliked orange juice or sitting on bare grass, it just was not in my personality to travel under London, it was suffocating and polluted, a space of horrid stares and angered expressions. I'm not saying that journeying on a bus is exceedingly good, it is mediocre and the only satisfying thing about it is that the architecture of the passing streets greet you through the massive window, and that's exactly what I did, I watched and I observed the bricks and concrete, and then the people and who they were and what kinds of lives they lived.