On A's and B's (and F's)
You remember a time when one came after the other. They came in a chronological sequence, each one had their place. No one stepped out of line.
You, together with others, were slotted into them. All of you held one of them at some point.
A's were gold, to be collected and guarded carefully like how a dragon hoards its treasure trove. The more you have, the mightier you were. On occasions, you took them out and wore them proudly as if they were equivalent to the medals on a soldier's decorated uniform. You had a collection of them, collected from past battles.
B's were like tissue packets. They were kept out of sight in your back pocket. Yet you weren't hesitant to take them out when others asked for it. They were forgiveable, not necessarily objects of envy nor objects of shame. They were a mark of silent hard work, of toil and sweat, but somehow falling just a bit short of glory.
F's were branded like scars on your back. They could be kept hidden (and hoped to slip away from one's consciousness) but could not be unseen, be it by yourself or others. A mark of not being good enough, of slipping through the cracks. Even with backbreaking toil, sometimes F lashes out like a whip to your back - becoming a mark, a burden, for you to bear. Some will grow into them. You can only envy them.
When did these three orderly things blend and merge?
A holds its place. It is untouchable, the thing that remains the most valuable thing worth grasping.
When did F rebel and step out of line?
When did B come to feel like the lashings of F?
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An excerpt from my favourite blog of the moment; a university literature student who tells its like it is, and constantly reminds myself of the past, present and future. She would rather her name not be mentioned in this post.
You, together with others, were slotted into them. All of you held one of them at some point.
A's were gold, to be collected and guarded carefully like how a dragon hoards its treasure trove. The more you have, the mightier you were. On occasions, you took them out and wore them proudly as if they were equivalent to the medals on a soldier's decorated uniform. You had a collection of them, collected from past battles.
B's were like tissue packets. They were kept out of sight in your back pocket. Yet you weren't hesitant to take them out when others asked for it. They were forgiveable, not necessarily objects of envy nor objects of shame. They were a mark of silent hard work, of toil and sweat, but somehow falling just a bit short of glory.
F's were branded like scars on your back. They could be kept hidden (and hoped to slip away from one's consciousness) but could not be unseen, be it by yourself or others. A mark of not being good enough, of slipping through the cracks. Even with backbreaking toil, sometimes F lashes out like a whip to your back - becoming a mark, a burden, for you to bear. Some will grow into them. You can only envy them.
When did these three orderly things blend and merge?
A holds its place. It is untouchable, the thing that remains the most valuable thing worth grasping.
When did F rebel and step out of line?
When did B come to feel like the lashings of F?
-
An excerpt from my favourite blog of the moment; a university literature student who tells its like it is, and constantly reminds myself of the past, present and future. She would rather her name not be mentioned in this post.
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