my random english assignment?
“I get knocked down, but I get up again” is the catchy tune that some singer I can’t remember wails about in his song, and is, I’m sure, a quote from some anonymous contributor - The elementary school recess, the one that was just like the countless others I had experienced, yet somehow was the only one that ever seemed different stands out clearly in my mind. I still remember how that mystic blue steel of the monkey bars - which were unquestionably made from the very metal King Arthur was drawn to in his Excalibur - was calling me. It was pleading with me to get closer, close enough so that I could feel the hot breath that would in some produce a terrible sense of fright, like the breath of a werewolf warning the neck of its victim who it was chasing down that clichéd back-alley - the one that everyone is constantly warning everyone else to stay away from. In me however, this breath took more or less the shape of the wind. The wind was not violently, but gently pressing itself upon my back, as if it was taking its place as a father figure, quietly yet forcefully driving me on closer to my goal. I climbed the castle-like staircase up to the platform below the bars and stared for but a brief moment into the nothingness that had become my vision, for no longer was I thinking, but acting purely on instinct. I took one step back and lunged forward with all of my 10 year-old might, desperately trying to join with the air, trying to clear those bars that were holding me back from the sky. It seemed that a mere belief would have, no, should have been enough to let me do anything in the world that I wanted to do, but soon that naïve scientist Newton was brought back into my memory, and his law of gravity began to take its course. I was falling, cascading away from those blue blockades of my short life. My father, the wind, looked on with that smile, the one that only parents have the ability to produce when they see their children ruining the school play. The impact was enough to take me away from my precious consciousness. And still, I did not feel worried about having failed. I did in fact succeed, for I was able to pick my broken self up. I was given the chance to keep on trying, which I did, and still do, though that monkey bar goal has long since been deserted.