The dictionary gave us two words that sound alike. Among other things, the first one means being wrong, but in our minds it echoes with try agains and better luck next times. It conjures up ice creams, the ones that had those words or prizes written on their sticks. The second word are the leaves of a tree, touching gently. Whispering. Trying to guess. The right answer, to be given the prize.
There is a boy licking an ice cream under the shade of a tree. The boy doesn’t know yet if he will get a prize or if his ice cream’s stick will wish him better luck next time. What he does know is that the stick of his ice cream came from that tree that has never given a single prize. And every time the wind blows whispers try again. Try again. Try again. And the boy cannot help but think, between bites of his ice cream, that if he were a leaf, he would also let himself fall come autumn. To escape the disappointment of being forced to take part, and always miss the prize.
Isn’t the purpose of the game to have me try and guess? If I stop trying, what would you have left?
That is what someone who has never failed says. Someone that doesn’t already have more than a thousand failures on their back, weighing down their soul.
What makes you think that I have failed? I wanted company and I got it. I did what I needed to do in order to get what I wanted.