Flashpoint

The anticipated day finally shows its face.
I had my first written assignment returned to me. At long last.

A wake up call really, as I recounted the thought processes which led up to the work of disaster (well, I was last in class I believe). The thoughts, open or closed. Relevant or insidious.. I recalled them all as my eyes traced the words.
Then my brutal honestly turned upon me.

Strictly speaking, I was already receiving results which by no means condemned the essay deservingly.
As my fingers traced the prose they trembled slightly.

I must be mad, I thought. These were all things i fancied saying, not what was really relevant.
Then I drew additional lines from the result I've been receiving for the philosophy assignments.
It's undeniable. The whole journey was fraught with arrogance and immaturity.

Arrogance because there were things I wanted to say, brilliant ideas I wanted to propose. Immature because I went on with them anyway.

It's not that I'm stupid, incompetent or anything. It's really an attitude problem.

Things are about to get rough, I hope.










The happy nonchalant days are passing. These weeks were fraught with days which were like a slap on the face. But after each one the task of appearing unfazed.
Because that's what everyone else does.
Funny thing is, I'm poised to get more of those slaps, you'll say.