The First A-Team​.

As for this one, no poem.


I have my way with words, at least I think I do. A story, tragic one, can easily get twisted into a part of my stand-up comedy performance. That’s also how I deal with many things, let’s just say I prefer a sit-com to a drama.
Much as I enjoyed being in high school, and talk about it. It’s getting old and I have to move on. I have signed with blood that this would be the last time I write about high school. However, this is an unsent letter, so my high school folks, this one is for you.


Dear my A-Team,

Let’s cut to the chase, the recruiting process was a pain in the neck, for bunches of 15 years old kids, filled with competitiveness. Three years, was it enough for rivals to become chums? An ugly mosaic turned into a beautiful painting, that’s what it is.

The First A-Team was a big part of the reality I left behind, I treasure every moment, ups and downs. Like an exotic delicacy, I would love to have a bite once in a while, just not every day. Sometimes I’d find myself missing the frustration we had, and also all the fun we had or would have if I were to be there with you folks. I couldn’t even listen to any K-pop song without thinking about our terrible dancing during breaks, off-key singing, and all that jazz.
Those were the sugar and spice, but don’t lie to me saying that’s everything. We all carried an extreme bitterness under our skin. But isn’t it what high school were all about? We sugarcoated them all. I was drunk on those sweets, until the supplier stopped and I was left with nothing but the same old bitterness under my skin. Once it stopped, it’s actually over. Three years were over, and I was stuck there trying to glue the dust into broken pieces. Of course, I gave up. The painting turned back into the mosaic, and we fell apart. We were the ultimate army, it was nice crashing all the parties and getting emotional bruises. But at the end of the day, our bonds were kept in a 4-wall room. Out of the room? – Nothing.
Like some of you may know, I had my plan in my troubled little mind, since 2015. Standing here, looking back, it’s more like a rehab for my addiction to High School. It worked, in the end.

What we had was painfully beautiful, but that was it… The full stop I put here might make the most sense after all.

AQ.

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