The Race.

“Ready.”

I sneak a glance up, looking ahead. The finishing line seems so distant. A fine thin line set against the blue of the sky. Visible, yet it seems unattainable.

“Set”

I shifted my gaze; I look down on the white horizontal line that runs in front of me. Then secretly, I stole a glance at the people beside me. Determination is written on their faces. They seem to be so clear as to where they are heading, where they want to go. Me? Sometimes I wonder too.

Nevermind, I shall try my best.
Uh..wait, theres a word for this in japanese: Ganbatte?

“Go!”

What? So fast? I am not ready yet!
Then again, I have never been really ready.
I might never be really ready. Really.

To hell with being ready.

I kick the sands behind me and joined the people in the race to the finishing line. There will only be one winner. And although I know it might never be me, at least I tried-by doing whatever it take to finish with pride.

^^

I know. Very subjective. Something I had written out of boredom sometime ago. Cant help to wonder that when we ask people as to how they are doing, we are also subconsciously comparing how well we are doing in each others eyes. Doesn’t matter the age, the race and religion, it’s a package that fits one.

Fact of life okay.

If kiasu-ism is a benchmark for an entry to hell, to hell we shall all go.

Ps: Not targeted at any one, just something I had in mind to write about for awhile. Kiasu-ism.

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