of grades and nursing

September 12, 2009

so how am i supposed to explain this phenomenon that seems to drag on and on and on?

we spend time, energy, sweat, saliva and materials, and yet we get almost nothing in exchange. aren’t we really just working for nothing but letters and numerical figures by the end of each semester? and when i think about it, grades aren’t even real! hell, they’re not even tangible. but we go through oceans and move beyond continents just for a measly letter off the alphabet that supposedly summarizes our performance! ha! one letter to cover the entire scope of my skills and the things that i learned?

and from that grade, from that single character written down in ink, lays our future. that letter can either make or break our sanity, can either be the drug to trigger our highs or the alcohol to pull us down the drain. that small figure stands as the main chairman between father and son, daughter and mother, aunts and neices/nephews on whether they’d share an open thrapeutic relationship or not.

and from there, comes the need to fulfill expectations and the illusion that we have to redeem ourselves for the sake of our parents and our ever supportive families.

when you think about it, it’s the angst ridden teenagers like me who would still suffer in the end. and they call it a fair system. pfft.

moving on.

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