Late at night, my eyes sting. I sit at the edge of the bed, not quite ready to fall into a mode of slumber. My brain does not want to quieten down, most lively it is. It is running around like a young child, with an endless source of energy. Examinations, competitions, and most importantly, expectations. How am I to be abvle to live up to the standards set by myself and those around me?
First the worries swirl around like a whirlpool. I swimn carefully nearby, slightly entranced by the sheer speed the water was swirling at. I had not noticed that the distance between myself and whirlpool was getting smaller and smaller. I had allowed myself to get careless, that split second where I was not wary of my surroundings. I get sucked in, and the salty water fill my lungs.
The worries have long passed, now the walls I call standards sway slightly. Made out of brick, I expected it to stay strong and sturdy. Alas, I has assumed too much, and that is unfortunately not the case. My hopes and dreams are mere thoughts, a figment of my vivid imagination. The bridge between my dreams and reality has not been built. I call for contruction to start, but no one wants to move. Everyone has come a standstill. Why are they not moving?
Strength in numbers, strength in numbers.
I thought everyone would realise that at some point. We need to get the infrastructure build. My nerves getting more tense by the second, it may snap at any moment now. I need, I want, I just really have to. Coating my desperation with flowery speech no longer works. The putrid emotions break through and my deepest fears and insecurities have surfaced. Falling behind in a race, when your own organs shut down on you, betray you. After knowing your body for so long, you have yet to establish any forms of agreement.
Sweat drips, followed by the tears, followed by the blood.
After running, you found you've lost. Why did I train? I should not have, have I known the outcomes. But I stil run as fast anyways. I run till I cough, sputter, drop on the floor in a heap altogether. Nothing beats the rhythmic beats my heart struggles to produce. The forced music rings out in the form of rugged breaths. A vein might have burst, no one ever knew, but the doors of death can now walk on legs of eighty-eight.
Submit.
And so i did. The pressures of achievements crushed my happiness, and my heart.
