Winning: Phone {Jersey}

A Story by Abishai100

A memoir of faerie-tale 'quality' concerning the mental/human weight of winning and contests for Earthling-life distance.

A vignette about competition-metaphysics.

DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction contains images/references with no ties to any representative person(s)/body (e.g., Robin Brancato) and is cast as purely a 'personal' expression for social art (for 'open' translations).

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Let me tell you of my journal-IQ of reflections of winning, as an Earthling. I have multiple snapshots of memory for this tell, and it concerns contests with different individuals, all of great personal/metaphysical significance symbolism to my spirit, as an American Homeland-Jersey citizen/resident/immigrant/Catholic/writer/think/human (Facebook-like!).

Winning isn't everything, but it sure helps. That's the case if you've got a slate of challengers in your annals of memory of contests as an Earthling, and I did. I thought about the value/weight of winning in the contests I'd been a witness to and a part of as a player/competitor/son/friend/teacher (sure). Winning isn't everything, but it relieves the muscles of the organic brain (Selfie-like).

MEMOIR 1 (Fathers/Sons)

My first snapshot of memory is of my contest with my father (Emit) in a billiards hall in the East Coast, after I'd begun work as a cyber-homeschooling teacher and revealed my college-days training/fun with fraternity-arena pool (wow). Emit had 3 shots on me and missed his last one, leaving me to clean-up my last 3 shots, and I made them all, rather cleanly, and with great joy. He congratulated me and hinted that if he was to lose, given his lifelong fascination with billiards-planes, he was glad his own son had the knack/bravado/charm (damn).

MEMOIR 2 (Friends/Rivals)

The second snapshot comes before the billiards one, and it concerns a dark-grey skies field of childhood backyard soccer, in a 3-person contest between me and my two half-buddies, one of them a rather pronounced antagonist rival. We arranged a penalty-kick shootout resolution for a tied-game condition, with me playing against both of them (I was more skilled). However, I had to weave the ideal penalty arch to sew in a line with the two of them with their arms spread across the zone, with menacing and perhaps somber consciousness (ha). I achieved the result I hoped for; and we called it a simplified laurel (for me). I thought about childhood relations and why soccer was something of a 'field heaven' for my jaws.

MEMOIR 3 (School-Ties)

In my senior year of college in New England, I tried my hand at learning fencing as a physical-education requirement completion to get my degree priorities organized! It's a game of swift sword-play and footing for helmeted elegance/charm. I found myself doing extraordinary well and challenged 2 fencers simultaneously and then was invited to participate as a 'guest' competitor to represent my college against an Ivy-rival (wow). What I learned was fencing was like life...incomplete-jewelry.

MEMOIR 4 (Nation State)

As a teacher, I took my students to a Model-UN youth politics education/recreation arena, where I'd participated (myself) as a high-school student (at Harvard/Rutgers). At the conference, I engaged a Russian schoolteacher who likewise brought his own group of active/invested world-politics students and learned he like playing chess, as I did. Our students encourages us (then!) to compete against each other as a sideshow theater duet, and we decided that was good. We drew a 'stalemate' (or perfect-draw), and I realized this was good class for world-exchanges in my estimation of my ID as an immigrant/citizen of the American Homeland and my competitor-teacher (from Russia) was a diplomat of American relations journeys (for education). This was cool, to be true.

These 4 memoirs, as you see, are my pages of consciousness, for the value of winning. The human mind is one of self-consciousness, and the art of contests concerns the balance-game of composure, vanity, outcome, and mental health (for all!). Winning isn't everything, but it sure helps (for field goals).

As I collect and collate these memoirs into this composition of winning and the weight of human contests for windows of Earthling-line, I think of this exercise in writing in my Homeland-Jersey haven/townhouse for readings of life's leviathan/uncertainty as a true-color for what's equally fitness and self-image justified margins (Selfie-like!).