03/11/2025
โ๐๐๐ง๐๐ฅ๐๐ฅ๐ฌ | ๐๐ถ๐ณ๐ฒ ๐ถ๐ป ๐๐ต๐ฒ ๐๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ป๐ฎ
โby Khenn Niez
โ
โThere are moments when, from a distance, you wave goodbye to your past track, victorious. You move forward, believing the path youโve chosen will secure your futureโconvinced that you still have aces hidden under your sleeve. Pride fuels you like a player stepping into the spotlight, declaring, โIโve played this game before.โ But arrogance is a fragile balloon; one strike from reality, and you find yourself adrift in an unknown arena you thought you had already conquered.
โ
โ๐ง๐ต๐ฒ ๐ง๐ฎ๐ฏ๐น๐ฒ ๐ผ๐ณ ๐๐ฎ๐ฟ๐ฑ๐
โ
โAt first, you find yourself seated at a table of cards. You start, confident. You have the skills, the experience, and even the connections. You believe the odds are in your favor. Yet in the end, your hands are empty. Many still outshine you without even trying, and there you are, left with a joker, laughing bitterly at your own unmasked incompetence.
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But instead of defeat, humiliation cascades through you, burying your pride beneath its weight.
โ
โ๐ง๐ต๐ฒ ๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐๐ฟ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ธ
โ
โThe earlier resentment subsides as you realize that you still hold every advantage: a high mark, a tall standing, a strong start. Sustaining it, however, is far tougher than a six-hundred-meter sprint. Indeed, you leap over countless hurdles, some leaving you bruised and weary. But the constant fear of being chased begins to slow you down.
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โYou keep running, though your stamina quickly fades. When you finally reach the finish line, you realize you have achieved your best.
โ
โBut at a cost.
โ
You barely make it through.
โ
โLife, however, is not what you think it is. It is never a looped running track, but an unending marathon of survival.
โ
โ๐ง๐ต๐ฒ ๐ฅ๐๐๐๐ถ๐ฎ๐ป ๐ฅ๐ผ๐๐น๐ฒ๐๐๐ฒ
โ
โSlowly, you descend from the pedestal that once made you visible to everyone, and all the same, you do not like what you have become. Out of desperation, you risk everythingโyour health, your time, your remaining strength. You load them into a revolver and pull the trigger, hoping for redemption. The sound echoes, daunting everyone, but your shot hits nothing but the abyss.
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Before you can take another chance, the game ends.
โ
It is over.
โ
You lose everything you once had.
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โNow, you have no lifeline left, no stamina to spare, and no available bullet aimed at the moon. Yet even then, you are too proud to ask for help or to accept defeat.
โ
โ๐ง๐ต๐ฒ ๐๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ป๐ฎ
โ
โLife, likened to an arena, leaves no room for mistakes. No space for even a speck of imperfection. Somewhere in that vast hall, people sit with glasses of champagne; some cheer your survival, others wait quietly for your fall.
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โAnd so, you continue to fight: wounded, breathless, and unseen. Because that is what life in the arena demands.
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Life itself is an arena; you just donโt realize it yet.
Digital Illustration by Lourence Earl Eroy
Layout by Christine Gomez
