Have you ever been in a situation where you have been so close to taking grasp of something you wanted or something you desperately needed that you could almost feel the texture of it on your fingertips, and yet, due to some bizarre, unexplainable event, it turns out that you weren't just close enough? And to make matters more frustrating, such a small difference, such an almost insignificant distance between your fingertips and that thing, translated to two totally different realities! That would just suck, won't it? To create an imaginary situation, it would be like joining a competition for obesity where the prize is a billion dollars; after weeks of eating and fattening yourself at McDonald's, you reach a point where you're so full that the single piece of French fry left in the carton would make you vomit. As much as you want to, you can't eat it. Come judgment, it all boils down to two contestants; one of them is you, and the other pretty much resembles you (as far as the massive body is concerned). But then, as fate would have had it, your competition outweighs you by two grams. Later on, you find out that the single French fry weighed three grams.
Ouch.
No, I did not join a fat contest.
But yes, I do find myself in a similar situation right now. Before finding out how close I actually was to achieving what it was I had wanted, I was pretty much comfortable with the idea of admitting defeat. I have conditioned myself with the thought that I won't be getting this thing that I needed! I was fine with that, I was okay. I mean there's a first for everything in life right? Success and failures—sooner or later one of them has to happen. And besides, there were people out there who were facing bigger problems than I was, so it was simply not an option for me to sulk about it.
I was almost over it until-it was revealed to me how close I was to reaching that goal. A single neurotransmitter in my brain making the right connection with another transmitter would have made a whole lot of difference. As someone has told me, the difference would have been like being stabbed in the leg, or being completely safe as you watch your companions bleed and suffer in battle. I have just been stabbed in the leg, when I could have just been on the sidelines of the battlefield, unhurt.
Anyway, it's so easy to be bitter given those circumstances. The frustration is so great it's almost unbearable. But come to think of it, I just have to keep remembering that in the first place, I have admitted defeat. Being a sore, frustrated loser right now won't really help me. Yes, it could have shown me the more desirable possibilities, but unfortunately, I don't get to live out those possibilities. After all, as I should know, there is always something positive to come out from these experiences, so there really is no good I can gain from being bitter. And one thing:
The world will not have to be shattered by a fucking number.
Besides, there's a lot to learn from being stabbed in the leg. It can make you realize you're human, and hey, you do bleed. It can make you realize where you're weak. It can make you realize that you're still alive even after being stabbed in the leg. It can make you realize where to stab your opponent, to make sure the battle ends with you as the victor.
After all, I should know.
Ouch.
No, I did not join a fat contest.
But yes, I do find myself in a similar situation right now. Before finding out how close I actually was to achieving what it was I had wanted, I was pretty much comfortable with the idea of admitting defeat. I have conditioned myself with the thought that I won't be getting this thing that I needed! I was fine with that, I was okay. I mean there's a first for everything in life right? Success and failures—sooner or later one of them has to happen. And besides, there were people out there who were facing bigger problems than I was, so it was simply not an option for me to sulk about it.
I was almost over it until-it was revealed to me how close I was to reaching that goal. A single neurotransmitter in my brain making the right connection with another transmitter would have made a whole lot of difference. As someone has told me, the difference would have been like being stabbed in the leg, or being completely safe as you watch your companions bleed and suffer in battle. I have just been stabbed in the leg, when I could have just been on the sidelines of the battlefield, unhurt.
Anyway, it's so easy to be bitter given those circumstances. The frustration is so great it's almost unbearable. But come to think of it, I just have to keep remembering that in the first place, I have admitted defeat. Being a sore, frustrated loser right now won't really help me. Yes, it could have shown me the more desirable possibilities, but unfortunately, I don't get to live out those possibilities. After all, as I should know, there is always something positive to come out from these experiences, so there really is no good I can gain from being bitter. And one thing:
The world will not have to be shattered by a fucking number.
Besides, there's a lot to learn from being stabbed in the leg. It can make you realize you're human, and hey, you do bleed. It can make you realize where you're weak. It can make you realize that you're still alive even after being stabbed in the leg. It can make you realize where to stab your opponent, to make sure the battle ends with you as the victor.
After all, I should know.
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