Success and everything else I tell myself I could have if only I worked harder

I 

steadily climb

the mountain

step by step,

breath by breath,

bloodshot eyes focused

on the peak where

I was told my 

dreams would come true.

“Put in the hard

work,” they told me, “and

you will have everything you

want.” That’s why I braved

the shrieking winds, the crumbling

stone, the slow reduction of

oxygen that made my lungs scream

for air. That’s why I live

on edge, every day, my body

both burning hot and ice cold,

blessed with nobody except myself — the

person who forces me to keep

going; the person who affirms that I

am not high enough, who tells me

“You need to climb harder; it’s because

you’re not putting in enough effort that

you’re meters lower than everybody else.” And 

yet, the person who stays by my 

side, though perhaps unwillingly, and keeps me

company on the roughest days. That’s why I 

keep climbing the mountain, step by step, breath by 

breath, bloodshot eyes focused on success and everything else I 

tell myself I could have if only I worked harder. Except sometimes I skip a 

step now, scrambling towards the top because I know I’m almost there, and I want 

success so badly, that those bloodshot eyes are wild with greed, and I don’t care if I can’t breathe. “I deserve this,” I tell myself, and I truly believe it; and my heart skips as it pumps in my chest, and my arms reach for sweet, sweet 

success—

But when I reach the top, I am still at the bottom, alone. Because when I look around, I realize that the

mountains around me are so much higher. I realize that I chose the shortest peak to climb. I realize that

I told myself I would be fine, but it was just me, myself, and I, playing a game of tomfoolery; trying to

be the highest, the best. And then I wonder: who said that hard work was the key to success, anyways?

by VICTORIA WOO