{"id":761,"date":"2006-11-03T15:46:36","date_gmt":"2006-11-03T21:46:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.bittermancircle.com\/wordpress\/writing\/1992\/1-16-92-game\/"},"modified":"2006-11-03T15:46:36","modified_gmt":"2006-11-03T21:46:36","slug":"1-16-92-game","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.bittermancircle.com\/?page_id=761","title":{"rendered":"1-16-92 Game"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"fb_share_1\" style=\"clear:left; float: left; margin-right: 10px; margin-top:10px;;width: 55px;\" name=\"fb_share\"><div id=\"fb-root\"><\/div><script src=\"http:\/\/connect.facebook.net\/en_US\/all.js#appId=125029517579627&amp;xfbml=1\"><\/script><fb:like href=\"https:\/\/www.bittermancircle.com\/?page_id=761\" send=\"false\" layout=\"box_count\" width=\"55\" show_faces=\"false\" font=\"arial\"><\/fb:like><\/div><p>Durban,South Africa<\/p>\n<p>What a strange time for mourning<br \/>\nAs if tears could last for 13 years<br \/>\nAs if I could force myself to feel<br \/>\nThat passion and pain again<br \/>\nNot as if it was all of life to be<br \/>\n(I hope losing never is)<br \/>\nBut a building block of a narrow platform<br \/>\nMy feet touched upon one time.<\/p>\n<p>It served as a home for the many sides<br \/>\nOf a growing boy too delicate to see<br \/>\nAcceptance many years away,almost as many<br \/>\nAs the facets that did reside there<br \/>\nThe ice cold distance of figuring others<br \/>\nThe joy of hurting others well<br \/>\nSelfish self sacrifice broken bruised badly<br \/>\nWhat it means to be part of a group<br \/>\nFor a scared little boy who just wanted<br \/>\nTo be a part of something,anything.<\/p>\n<p>A group of misfits,who would do all they could<br \/>\nAnd it was never enough,never<br \/>\nNot even once<br \/>\nFor at sixteen what do you know<br \/>\nOf numbers and safety,ritual motions<br \/>\nOnly emotions of winning and losing<br \/>\nAnd all we had were guesses of victory<br \/>\nTo imagine the opposite,grasping at smoke<br \/>\nMultiply time a formula we never learned.<\/p>\n<p>It was nice to have the chance<br \/>\nTo be part of the biggest heart<br \/>\nAnd I have felt pain,anger,apathy<br \/>\nFor the way the path was changed<br \/>\nBut mostly I feel love<br \/>\nFor the game,the people,the lesson,the memory<br \/>\nNow to know that it doesn&#8217;t have to leave me<br \/>\nThat even the champions cried in sorrow<br \/>\nEven if I can not..<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Durban,South Africa What a strange time for mourning As if tears could last for 13 years As if I could force myself to feel That passion and pain again Not as if it was all of life to be (I hope losing never is) But a building block of a narrow platform My feet touched [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":394,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"_mi_skip_tracking":false,"spay_email":""},"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/PeNcU-ch","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bittermancircle.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/761"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bittermancircle.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bittermancircle.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bittermancircle.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bittermancircle.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=761"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.bittermancircle.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/761\/revisions"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.bittermancircle.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/394"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.bittermancircle.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=761"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}