story.

As it turned out, he was right, and I was wrong. I had spent the past month sprucing up my home with the mindset that I would have a good attitude during and when I win my trial. But now that I had failed myself, what’s it worth? That hard work and dedication all came up short, for nothing. But I don’t blame this on anyone one, and once again, I’m taking sole responsibility for my actions. This isn’t something I can just shrug off, things like these stick, for a while. I have pushed and prided myself to get the good grades that reflect who I am as a person. The countless hours of studying and putting off hanging with my friends have taken a toll on me. And so, dare is say it, what’s the point? Who cares if I have to work and slave for a solid A most of the time, I’ve had it with the all night study sessions, the perfect attendance, and the glory seeing my name on the honor roll every semester. What is the point of it even, do I receive some sort of satisfaction that lasts forever? Nope, not even close. It’s as if I’m eating a chocolate cake. The creamy satisfaction and the taste is good for the first 30 seconds when I had eaten it all, but then I realize it’s gone, and I have that bitter taste in my mouth, and I don’t want that bitter taste in my mouth, so it’s as if I need to cut the things that I love for the greater sake of myself, so I wouldn’t get that bad feeling afterwards and get let down. And I know, this won’t be something I can shrug off the morning after, it’s something more than that. Weeks after I had my epiphany, things have taken a detour in my life. Grades didn’t seem as important to me anymore, and getting B’s and C’s on my test scores had become the norm for me. I even skipped out taking my senior thesis. Who needs it right? Being a national merit scholar is not as important to me anymore, it’s just a flimsy piece of paper, some sort of plaque, and a handshake from the principal with some sort of media attention. It’s not worth it anymore, it’s just not worth it. I had let my house go, not real estate wise, but in terms of the cleanliness. I’m in a slump, real bad. Most likely the slump ballplayers face when they return to the plate after a long-term injury. They like me will swing at the first sign of opportunity they see, and they always come up short. They will persevere and have some roadblocks, but we all have instincts, and that makes us stop and stare. And other times we would try and try and try, but that sometimes results in a second chance because that was a foul ball, and that same chance won’t happen again with the same person. And when your backs to the wall, and you give it your all, it results in a desperation swing that always results as an out. Or in this case a wakeup call. But then again, these are the rules of baseball, and the laws of baseball don’t apply to the real world, or at least in this case I wouldn’t see the signs.