hollow
Some people think its all for recognition. The honour, the glory, the boons, the gold, silver and bronze. That the world is about credit and fame and fortune. It is a cliche many know is known, yet you can never tell.
I was once such a person. Some may think i still am, that such a post has ulterior motives, so be it. Once upon a time i went to a school and realised that all my friends were nationally recognised sportsmen, performers, clubsmen, something. That they had medals and prizes and certificates. I am envious, i have always been.
Sorting out CCAs upon CCAs, a certain fc told me how softball was e easiest, how it would bring me to the competition and give me credit. Oh how i leapt with selfish glee. Oh how i despise myself for looking upon testimonials, those paper slips, with such a covetous gaze.
It took almost a year of training, dinners, lunches, outings, chats, bats, falls, laughs and a streak of debilitating injuries for me to realise my foolishness. Perhaps it was the advantage of being able to let my thoughts roam as i languished in bed, either way i realised a change.
Just a month or 2 before i was one of 4 worried boys complaining about the large amount of yearones who would threaten our months of dedication and sacrifice in getting a good testimonial for our future. Now...i've changed?
I realised i'd rather play than have and testimonials, that i'd rather play and get zero recognition, zero realisation by anyone that i contributed as compared to watching former teammates play while i get my points and passages.
A scoring course? That was viable, before i was injured i would have taken it, after all its one more testimonial to add to my oh so precious slip of paper. Now i'd rather not.
No more pain. It shouldnt be normal to feel comfortable watching people play, to score for them when your soul yearns to be there. I dont want to try, i refuse, i rebute i reject.
I cannot take being led off the field with soothing words and comforting hands again. I cannot take being showered with flowery phrases that are so obviously covered in the thorns of self interest. I am no hero, but i have some dignity, i still have that shred of morality that keeps me complete rather than broken on a bloodied sidewalk.
Why do people seem to change all the time with attitudes. Why are they so morally fluid to step from side to side. It is irritating, it is restraining and the hollowness, the gloom, the doom, the regret, the pain, the tears, the betrayal, the torment the bleakness are all back. Back together with one short session of statements and allegations that i am restrained to respond to.
Edmund, i agree, i am too restrained.
set me free
I was once such a person. Some may think i still am, that such a post has ulterior motives, so be it. Once upon a time i went to a school and realised that all my friends were nationally recognised sportsmen, performers, clubsmen, something. That they had medals and prizes and certificates. I am envious, i have always been.
Sorting out CCAs upon CCAs, a certain fc told me how softball was e easiest, how it would bring me to the competition and give me credit. Oh how i leapt with selfish glee. Oh how i despise myself for looking upon testimonials, those paper slips, with such a covetous gaze.
It took almost a year of training, dinners, lunches, outings, chats, bats, falls, laughs and a streak of debilitating injuries for me to realise my foolishness. Perhaps it was the advantage of being able to let my thoughts roam as i languished in bed, either way i realised a change.
Just a month or 2 before i was one of 4 worried boys complaining about the large amount of yearones who would threaten our months of dedication and sacrifice in getting a good testimonial for our future. Now...i've changed?
I realised i'd rather play than have and testimonials, that i'd rather play and get zero recognition, zero realisation by anyone that i contributed as compared to watching former teammates play while i get my points and passages.
A scoring course? That was viable, before i was injured i would have taken it, after all its one more testimonial to add to my oh so precious slip of paper. Now i'd rather not.
No more pain. It shouldnt be normal to feel comfortable watching people play, to score for them when your soul yearns to be there. I dont want to try, i refuse, i rebute i reject.
I cannot take being led off the field with soothing words and comforting hands again. I cannot take being showered with flowery phrases that are so obviously covered in the thorns of self interest. I am no hero, but i have some dignity, i still have that shred of morality that keeps me complete rather than broken on a bloodied sidewalk.
Why do people seem to change all the time with attitudes. Why are they so morally fluid to step from side to side. It is irritating, it is restraining and the hollowness, the gloom, the doom, the regret, the pain, the tears, the betrayal, the torment the bleakness are all back. Back together with one short session of statements and allegations that i am restrained to respond to.
Edmund, i agree, i am too restrained.
set me free
posted by slipperdan at 8:39 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home