“Childhood, Shelved” represents my nostalgia for childhood under growing academic pressure for excellence. This comes from one of my most emotionally vulnerable moments in the beginning of the school year. The unprecedented amount of work laden on my shoulders wore down my unprepared self. Instead of full marks across the board like primary school, achieving an A grade was like being thrown into a gladiator battle against fifteen lions at once – No one to aid you, managing a truckload of issues at once, and a gladiator ready to replace you as champion as soon as you fall. It all bubbled up during one all-nighter when I simply collapsed. Physically paralyzed, my mind ran wild. I could only stare down at the dull books and stacks of paper littered over the floor that I have yet to complete, while emblems of my childhood are suspended behind on shelves. My toys, the musical instruments I gave up, simple grades, and easily earned praise. It was then that I realized a negative perspective on maturity, the fear of responsibility, that I could only express in the lonesome of my room free of scrutiny. But allowing such a break to recognize the situation allows me to catch my breath, pinpoint my concerns, and get back up the next day to persist.
