Sunday, July 12, 2009

soliloquy of a six-point slip

In response to my disastrous first exam in Math 17.

We do not live to collect 1.00’s and proudly stash them in our schoolbags, for the noble flat-ones serve only as chariots in our quest for excellence, as guides in this trek towards mathematical salvation, and as the Northern Stars of our voyage towards the Eden of Numbers.

We do not live to the dictates of glorious heritages, however grand the illusions they create to the untrained eyes, nor do we let such cultures spell the workings of our every day.

We are not walking calculators: born to solve the 13th root of m raised to the 22nd power and divided by a radical that’s twice the conjugate of the first; created to complete every blank on a mathematical paper with vaguer statements; designed to satisfy the whims of ancestors.

We cannot let ourselves be conquered by the false glory that an 85 over 85, or even an 80, emanates.

We simply cannot keep still while being pushed around by lesser mortals, all telling us to ‘reach for the stars’, when it is, foremost, the stars’ intention to be distant so that there will be something for us to chase on our own.

We do not content ourselves with mediocrity, neither do we resign ourselves to the fact that mediocre is what we were born to be.

From the bottom of the ocean, the rays of sunlight shimmer with brilliance; from here, we swim our way to the splendid surface.

A mountaineer who climbs a mountain, slides back, and climbs again eventually reaches the peak.

We are not at the top, for it is only through being not on top that we can freely and grandly reach the top.

Let others say what they want to say and think what they want to think, but we shall silently work our magic and build our grandest staircase to the topmost floor.

Just wait, just be patient, just be focused. Work hard and have faith.

The fallen shall rise again.

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