Orchid.
It is a strange and empty sort of feeling to be browsing on your older brother's Facebook wall and come across a comment left by a former student of his, only to realize that you're pretty certain you've seen the student in person before; have probably even felt a sort of resentment toward the student.
In this life,
Perhaps only in this long and arduous chapter -
You have gone through a series of rough starts and dead ends to find yourself as the lowest caste of employment at a prestigious university, while simultaneously that student has - through the help of your brother's wisdom and knowledge, gone on to become a scholarly freshman at the very same place where you kneel down in dimly lit halls to pluck a piece of lettuce from underneath a dining table and quietly curse the zoological aspects of your employment.
You are something akin to a janitor now, and a feeling of deep shame comes over you to realize this connection on Facebook. Made even deeper to realize that your fate truly is cemented as part of the forgotten set - the twin pair bond that have both lived an alternate lifestyle from the norm, successes measured differently than the other siblings in your family. Successes measured personally, because no one else ever had the time to really notice or give a shit.
This is my last biggest burden to bear in life, and I will cast it off in some way, somehow.
Some day.
But not today, or tomorrow.
The orchids bloom again - neither of us remembering how they looked before, where they originally came from.
They serve as a reminder that life is a constant cycle of starting anew.
In this life,
Perhaps only in this long and arduous chapter -
You have gone through a series of rough starts and dead ends to find yourself as the lowest caste of employment at a prestigious university, while simultaneously that student has - through the help of your brother's wisdom and knowledge, gone on to become a scholarly freshman at the very same place where you kneel down in dimly lit halls to pluck a piece of lettuce from underneath a dining table and quietly curse the zoological aspects of your employment.
You are something akin to a janitor now, and a feeling of deep shame comes over you to realize this connection on Facebook. Made even deeper to realize that your fate truly is cemented as part of the forgotten set - the twin pair bond that have both lived an alternate lifestyle from the norm, successes measured differently than the other siblings in your family. Successes measured personally, because no one else ever had the time to really notice or give a shit.
This is my last biggest burden to bear in life, and I will cast it off in some way, somehow.
Some day.
But not today, or tomorrow.
The orchids bloom again - neither of us remembering how they looked before, where they originally came from.
They serve as a reminder that life is a constant cycle of starting anew.