the box

Posted: June 6th, 2008 | Filed under: life | No Comments »

The box is showing signs of wear.  The shine on the bottom made it easier to move at first, but the longer I drag it, the more scratched and dented it becomes.  I stop to wipe the sweat from my forehead and look back to see how far I’ve walked.  My forehead wasn’t as wet as expected and I probably shouldn’t have turned around to check my status.  I can still see my starting point and that makes me feel really small.

I sat down on my box, which is something I never would have done before.  Presentation is everything, but at this point, the damage to the top of the box can’t come near the damage from being dragged on the bumpy road.  I didn’t know the trip would be so long.  I knew how many miles I had to go, but a big part of me thought that someone would pass by and offer me a ride.
  
With my elbows on my knees, I lean my head down to stretch my neck.  I don’t hear any birds, see any trees or feel a breeze.  A few cars have passed by me on their way to something important and the more cars that pass, the dirtier I become.  
Something that I find hard to admit, even in my head, is that I thought I was one of those people who would bypass the whole class and go straight for the exam.  I  thought that I could pass without trudging through the monochromatic anti dramatic blah, blah, blah like everyone else.  It happens to people ever once in a while.  We’ve all seen it.  Someone gets picked from the crowd and pushed through without standing in line.  And it’s usually the last person you would have noticed who gets it.  
Well, I’m officially not one of those people.  I have to feel every bump in the road and learn every lesson along the way.  It’s always like that for me.  I think it’s because I’m resilient.  I have a tough exterior and am extremely rebellious.  If someone tells me I can’t do something, I’ll die proving them wrong.  There is a wild animal that paces inside me and gives no regard to the general laws of sociality or physics in spite of my emotional and mental well being.  God knows this gets me in torrential trouble, but (maybe?) it will help me fight to the top of the heap one day.
I let out a deep sigh and stood up.  My grip found it’s place on my scuffed up box and my feet began to rise and fall once again.  I’m a transient with too much class for the dirt on my face and stink under my arms, but too much defiance to let it bother me.
  


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