Once upon a time, I come in to a place where the people are as bright as the sky. They are a bunch of fine-brained with ambition to take down all creatures above the galaxy and below the earth. Majority is the born-stars, while very few are those called The Average. They spend whole day and night debating over things in this world and solving problems, even if they are just as tiny as the tip of my pink finger. They want to be noticed so badly, appraisal is what they seek and sleek is their tongue. They are a collection of aggressive, calculative, brave, human. They are beastly, but at the same time, likable. Those are the Attackers. Those are The Strategists.
The Average is a collection of people who are no longer unable to grow and do not seek for any improvement. They are bunch of guys who just live to live, going distinct time after time. They are unacceptable, that is why they are closed-off. They are the Bridge Builder, The Hammersmith, The Weapon Makers. The judgement is they can work only with hand. And to their names no one is interested.
I am trusted as one of the born-stars, deep inside I know that is true. My name is unknown. But quirky is my personality compared to the those, that they believe I am not. The judgment is I am passive. Spirit of competing is what I do not have. I am only sitting while others are running. Bad is my tongue and slow is my brain. In my own world I live. I am assigned as one of the Attacker while the judgment is my seat should be what The Average just do. I am not refusing the judgement since true are most of the contents. But wrong is the part that I am incapable of competing. And to defend myself in the assessment, I can think even though slow is the run. I am seeking for a growth and my soul wants to be involved in the taking-downs.
to be continued.