Wrong Room

Have you ever experienced entering the wrong classroom? How did it feel like?

To accidentally attend in the wrong room when we were in school for the first time was often happened for our carelessness or confusion. It got us stung and embarrassed when we came to realize we actually did not belong there. Yet, later, it amused us for the silly mistaken we had done. Perhaps, the new friendship began there, the kind of extra ones. Although, we had to started at another one.

But, there were certain rooms where we were really set to be or happened to be there, suddenly turned out to be so wrong for us. Just for us. It made us hard to blend or even to just stepped in.

Like when we were in high school, where students were classified. I mean the room for good, normal, and bad students. We were separated and categorized base on our score on each subject. Felt like we were indirectly insulted if we happened to be at the bad one.

Funny thing is that the problem was not there, yet it was when we were the worst one and got like a lucky draw to the best room which did not fit our poor brain at all. Or maybe god wanted to make fun of us? Guess.

Felt so proud to walk in on the very first day? and later to only realize we already became a donkey over monkeys out there. Thought we could climb? Get over it! No one disrespected us, we offended ourselves. That was how we were taught, maybe.

And then, found our foot were heavier on the next day and after. We hesitated to go in, for our own security and comfort. Thought. We knew that we could be stepped on to death for real. Not by their foot, but our own thinking. The thinking that kept holding us on and pulled us back from going towards it sometimes.

Maybe, it was where we wanted to give up, and maybe we wanted to at least try it out. At least. To disappoint ourselves. To know whether the complication was the room, them, us, or the class.