Everything that makes me different, in a good way, isn't something of my own making. All those qualities are because of people who cared or were just around long enough to affect me.
I have a decent command of the English language. Because my parents thought it important for me to read and speak it. I know bits of trivia. Again because my parents forced me to read. I can play a little guitar ( well, actually, it's a normal sized one :D ). Courtesy my parents sending me for lessons. Tennis. Swimming. Ditto. ( They tried horse-riding too but a couple of falls put an end to that. Apparently I don't have strong enough thighs! :D )
I can fiddle around with a computer a bit because my parents thought it necessary to sacrifice and buy us a computer early on. I can drive because my father took the time to teach me and mother suppressed her fears of me mowing down pedestrians, in a fair imitation of Carmageddon, enough to let me practice a bit. They would have liked to have me learn to dance and cook and sew too but by then I'd learnt the invaluable art of slipping into teenage sullenness.
Since this post isn't meant as a forum for me to extol my virtues ( to a certain extent it isn't :D ) or for me to try and gain sympathy ( again, only to a certain extent :D ), I'll get on with it. The point is, there is nothing that I've done on my own. Nothing that I have to show for my 22 years of existence that isn't of someone else’s making. If someone says I am intelligent, even that is to be credited to the genes my parents gave me. If I've scored half decent marks, it's because my mother insisted right from the start on studying first.
And what am I doing with all these chances that I've been given? All the opportunities I've had to be ahead of the rat race? Frittering them away, that's what. I've no ambition. No drive. Nothing is important enough for me to get up and do something about it. I'm content to sit and whine. To write a post for a blog rather than use that time to study.
Where am I heading? I really, really don't know. And I'm not sure I want to find out either.
I have a decent command of the English language. Because my parents thought it important for me to read and speak it. I know bits of trivia. Again because my parents forced me to read. I can play a little guitar ( well, actually, it's a normal sized one :D ). Courtesy my parents sending me for lessons. Tennis. Swimming. Ditto. ( They tried horse-riding too but a couple of falls put an end to that. Apparently I don't have strong enough thighs! :D )
I can fiddle around with a computer a bit because my parents thought it necessary to sacrifice and buy us a computer early on. I can drive because my father took the time to teach me and mother suppressed her fears of me mowing down pedestrians, in a fair imitation of Carmageddon, enough to let me practice a bit. They would have liked to have me learn to dance and cook and sew too but by then I'd learnt the invaluable art of slipping into teenage sullenness.
Since this post isn't meant as a forum for me to extol my virtues ( to a certain extent it isn't :D ) or for me to try and gain sympathy ( again, only to a certain extent :D ), I'll get on with it. The point is, there is nothing that I've done on my own. Nothing that I have to show for my 22 years of existence that isn't of someone else’s making. If someone says I am intelligent, even that is to be credited to the genes my parents gave me. If I've scored half decent marks, it's because my mother insisted right from the start on studying first.
And what am I doing with all these chances that I've been given? All the opportunities I've had to be ahead of the rat race? Frittering them away, that's what. I've no ambition. No drive. Nothing is important enough for me to get up and do something about it. I'm content to sit and whine. To write a post for a blog rather than use that time to study.
Where am I heading? I really, really don't know. And I'm not sure I want to find out either.
1 comment:
This wass great to read
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