In the blink of an eye, my whole perspective of the world changed. Equivalent to how America felt when J.F.K was assassinated. How England reacted when Princess Diana was being consigned to the grave, and how the U.S. responded after the World Trade Center was attacked. Disbelief and devastation were my emotions. In the blink of an eye my whole perspective of the world changed, and so did I.
             The word that came from his lips summed up my high school life till eleventh grade. "Loser", my father yelled when I stumbled in at three thirty in the morning on a school night. So disoriented the word goes in one ear and out the other like the threading of a needle. "Loser", the tone of his voice is twice as loud now. The word started melting and slowly dripping into my brain like wax does on a candle. Utterly repulsive as an individual is how I felt my father scrutinized my persona. Leaving with a taste as sour as vinegar in my mouth, I left, and vacated my room. I felt disgusted, not immaculate, mostly defiled. The word replayed in my mind like a broken record that couldn't be unplugged. Embedded in my head like the branding of a cow. It would not depart my mind. It lingered around like the stench of a malodorous sardine. The past three years everything I was doing was inimical to my individuality. If my father implied that I was a "loser", everyone else must have too.
             Reality had struck me harder than Mike Tyson's right hook. I was a loser. I need to emancipate my inimical individuality. I must overcome this defiant deficit in my life. I constructed a graph of the changes that needed to be assembled to ratify my new interpretation of life. I was going to educate and defoul my body. Friends would ridicule me, but this was a propitious move into becoming a prodigy to my father. I would, and I did. I was betrothed to my word and my father's
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