Dry Raisin of Ignorance
I have always regarded myself as a frustrated writer. I’m really not good with writing literature. I have taught interpreting literature, but I don’t have the proper authority to teach writing literature. In fact, there were quite a number of times when I felt I shouldn’t even lead a club like Xanadu.
This mentality has always haunted me. I really feel so low, not worthy to be noticed. My writing has been overlooked since high school and college. I tried writing stories and poems, yet no one seemed to notice. I have always been the second placed guy standing alongside the champions in a podium.
The feeling of unworthiness came rushing back to me this afternoon. I tried to put the feeling into words, but nothing seemed to work. I felt so tired and stressed out for thinking the proper way to express my emotions into writing, until I went back to a website that I have been a member of for the past half decade. Fortunately, I still remember my password and email to it and logged on.
I went over my posts and I came across my best reviewed poem, “33rd”. Upon reading it, the emotion of the poem suddenly came crashing on me. I was that guy on that 33rd floor. I was that person wishing to let go and be free. I was he who carries that “dry raisin of ignorance”.
Looking further, I checked the comments and read the accolades for that poem. For some reason, I felt happy. At least, some random strangers think that I have greatness which even I can’t seem to fathom.
It’s saddening to feel unworthy. I just wish that there will be more random strangers to make me feel important and talented. Then again, life is full of wishful thinking, so I guess I’ll just have to sit and make the world turn as I become oblivious to everyone’s sight.
http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2592290/1/33rd
