Hard work is the lonely work. It's the ones conducted in empty rooms, accompanied by flickering fluorescent lights and pale monitors. It's the work done while drowning in caffeine, tattooed with high lighters, eyes arrested by black and white. It's the screaming of strained muscles, salty sweat, the exhaustion of a mind and physique escalating beyond limits. It demands commitment and strength. But only because.. only because it returns the best rewards.
I was never born graced with a silver spoon cradled in my mouth. Though my life has staged a fair shares of opulent scenarios, glittering gifts, decadent cuisine and luxurious suites, I was always completely aware of my roots. If anything, they were buried too far beneath dirt and tar for me to step loftily above the heads of my peers in arrogance. I've faced the yawning, cavernous hunger of a body that couldn't afford food; I've had the utter, incomprehensible hopelessness of not being able to fulfill assignments to a heart's content, or provide gifts for the ones I loved for lack of funds; I know to turn away from the simplest things that were beyond my reach.
However I admit no loss, because within those years I've gained an inner independence that's far more valuable than parading in the wealth of someone's generosity.
This time last year I was trapped with a meager allowance, admittedly too proud to ask for more. I rarely ate, even when out socializing, counting cents as millions. There is little else that rivals the overwhelming frustration of not being able to execute an act, only by being trapped with something as petty as money. But this is the existing present world - financial comfort is by no means the most important thing, but it sure as hell allows a more accommodating life. I would have loved to be able to save had I had enough to, but I never did. I would only allow the occasional treats, some probably ostentatious (to my mind). I never envied my more well endowed friends. Resentful of life's unfair cards, perhaps, but never jealous. I knew if I worked hard enough, I could.
As of September last year I possessed less than 50 ringgit to my name. Fourth months of keeping my head down, drilling hours, with the occasional enjoyable pursuits, my savings has exceeded five figures. Five, solid, figures, a fruit of persistent efforts. I will be proud of this one. Not for wealth, but for the satisfactory reward of hard work.
I was never born graced with a silver spoon cradled in my mouth. Though my life has staged a fair shares of opulent scenarios, glittering gifts, decadent cuisine and luxurious suites, I was always completely aware of my roots. If anything, they were buried too far beneath dirt and tar for me to step loftily above the heads of my peers in arrogance. I've faced the yawning, cavernous hunger of a body that couldn't afford food; I've had the utter, incomprehensible hopelessness of not being able to fulfill assignments to a heart's content, or provide gifts for the ones I loved for lack of funds; I know to turn away from the simplest things that were beyond my reach.
However I admit no loss, because within those years I've gained an inner independence that's far more valuable than parading in the wealth of someone's generosity.
This time last year I was trapped with a meager allowance, admittedly too proud to ask for more. I rarely ate, even when out socializing, counting cents as millions. There is little else that rivals the overwhelming frustration of not being able to execute an act, only by being trapped with something as petty as money. But this is the existing present world - financial comfort is by no means the most important thing, but it sure as hell allows a more accommodating life. I would have loved to be able to save had I had enough to, but I never did. I would only allow the occasional treats, some probably ostentatious (to my mind). I never envied my more well endowed friends. Resentful of life's unfair cards, perhaps, but never jealous. I knew if I worked hard enough, I could.
As of September last year I possessed less than 50 ringgit to my name. Fourth months of keeping my head down, drilling hours, with the occasional enjoyable pursuits, my savings has exceeded five figures. Five, solid, figures, a fruit of persistent efforts. I will be proud of this one. Not for wealth, but for the satisfactory reward of hard work.
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