All in all I had a wonderful week. Something to treasure in my heart but not something I can say I did it flawlessly. I felt pathetic as a matter of fact. My performance was, for a lack of a WORSE word, lacklustre. I never felt so disappointed in my life. It was then that I realized how much that moment valued for me. I cannot let this go. I must have it. There is just no other way, I said. Lunch break came and I was so down, emotionally broken. I need to do something. I have to find a way to counter the said counter Thomas was talking about. Lunch break finished, I'm still at the tip of my temper. Should I give up? I shouldn't even have considered that miserable question. It would have been over the moment I entertained that. Lady luck was fucking with me without actually touching me, and never have I felt so insulted in my life. Another five stinking minutes of break and still no signs of success, I felt Thomas was picking on me now. God damn it Cil, you just have to DO it, a two-letter word has never been so difficult in my entire life. Fuck this! I said. The mask arrives. It had a comedic countenance written on with abstract images flowing through my mind. Exaggeration, yea, one person whispered. That's it. I got it all figured out, or so I thought. I volunteered first. First go was tragic. No, no, no, no, Thomas exclaimed. Again! What the hell. This is not the way it's supposed to be. I'm being embarrassed. This was not what I signed up to do. This was not how it occurred last January. Where did I go wrong? I was vehement. I needed to persevere. This will not be my swan song, not while I'm still able to do something about it. I wanted Thomas to keep pushing me, drilling me down to the ground, until life passed me by and grumbled. Another round, I whispered only to myself. Give me another round. Thomas glances to his side and orders another person to come to the front. I was devastated. That was heartbreaking. That moment of stillness clung into my outer memory like solid nightmares crawling up my clavicle, giving me shivering chills and goosebumps for no apparent reason but to annoy. I sat back down without resistance. I kept thumping my feet aching to go back. No, fuck this. Fuck it all. I had to bear watching eight more people doing all the things I wasn't able to. It never felt so bad until that. My critique self was lambasting my thoughts to alleviate my anxiety. I was watching them all and listening to Thomas at the same time, watched him wiggle his head to the movements of the eight people not wiggling his head in mine. I'm still up for this, I remembered telling myself. Never, never bow down. I'm still the best. I paid little attention to everyone. Nothing will stand against me and my predetermined infamy. There should be a breaking point in everything. I will be that breaking point. I will break every fucking point there is. Every fucking point. Every.
And then I did. And I felt pathetic. Like a baby. How is babby formed? How do women get pragnent? One person asked. I had no idea. What am I saying? I have no idea. It was this feeling. This similar feeling. The I had no idea feeling that made it all okay. I was free. The guys praised me and I stood there wondering cluelessly. Loathing, dreadfully furious and disappointed. I won.