While downhilling is a very adrenaline experience for most people I know, it’s a different story for me. My version of a downhill is falling into the pit of failure. I feel embarassed to myself. This is not me. This is not me at all.
I am not living my own anymore. I am competing. I know too well that competition is not for me. I feel that so. It’s not that I am scared or a coward. It’s just that I don’t believe that a person is measured by proving that he is better than the next person before or after him. I don’t like making a person feel that I am better or he is lesser. That’s just it.
I remember when I was in preschool, and I earned a silver medal for being second in the class. I wondered why I got the award. All I knew that time was, I was playing a lot while the class was going on. Then, I got more awards as I level up… never the first but always the second. My mother always told me that if I only exerted more effort I could be number one. Oh yeah, I was always accelerated one grade level.
When I was a junior in high school, I experimented with failure. I always wonder about that growing up. I thought, what would it be like if I would not be in the honors’ roll? What would it be like? And so I did… I didn’t get any awards that year. Everybody was surprised. But then, it backfired at me… I found myself deeply praying that I would not lose my section.
It’s funny why I never have yearned to be number one; to be the best; to be this and that.
But I guess, my own version of competition is with myself. Now I am remorseful. I am defeated with my own negligence. I am waiting for the worse to come so I can work on the contingency and then rehabilitation.
Another funny thing is, despite everything – the failure, etc. I feel okay.
