Fruitful Hours

"Fruit" doesn't necessary mean those edible stuff that we pick from trees which come in many different colors, shapes and sizes. A fruit can be sweet. A fruit can also be bitter. In literal terms, 'fruit' can refer to how our efforts have not been to no avail.

"The back-breaking and sweat-raining days of a farmer bears him fruit. Fruitful labor."

I can sense the momentum. My efforts to put in 110%. Like a pendulum swinging back and forth. Back and I finish my assignments on time. Forth and I feel more and more prepared to face the decisive test for my own future. Maybe even the test which will determine whether or not I can get back straight on my feets. The three-weeks of tension and unease. This three weeks of mental preparation for the inevitable. The next three weeks of straining our fingers till the very end; whether we finish these tests in one piece, or shall we go back home with broken fingers or finger cancer, our resolve shall determine it all. I shall, and repeat shall, return safely. Just as how I never break my promise and not give up till either one falls. I will never throw myself on the blade. I shall fight on. I am not afraid. I had to. I had to sacrifice my id for this time. No more foolish games for this period of time. No more Facebook and 'stalking' friends. No more complacent lunchbreaks for the sake of pleasure. I shall not succumb to any forms of immature pleasure, like playing lifeless video games, playing feet-shattering basketball matches and ruthlessly unpleasant jokes in class. I shall also leave the jokers fall for their own jokes. I shall leave the 'emo' losers break themselves. I shall let those immature and insensitive nerds who play "team fortress 2" get themselves killed by the demo guy. I shall let the basketball hardcore-players risk their limbs and finally risk their future. After all, I have no rights as their friend to be helping them get back up on their feets. I have no rights to interfere with another person's life and say, "You have a problem." I am in no position to bless nor mess their lives. I am human and I have feelings. But there is a difference between gaining sympathy and gaining compassion. Recalling my soft-hearted experiences back then, I shall tell myself to show neither... Okay, maybe the former. But NEVER will I show compassion to people who fail to even try to get themselves back to their feets. Here... These days... I am helping this other girl from my class. I am sort of... empowering her with whatever I am capable of to help her get to her course by excelling in her 'O's. I am not showing sympathy nor compassion. I am only doing so to repay the debt; I owe her. Ever since I was shown sympathy and had a different reaction fro the conventional "taken for granted" of average people, I understood that there are two types of people in this world: One would show sympathy to a beggar by donating a few loose change. The other would have the guts to help that beggar get back on his feets. This girl... is the latter. Since Secondary Three... Anyways, I shall end my post here. My mind's still unchanged since yesterday's post... Ever since that voice...