Meng has always been the first one to finish his tasks. His mother proudly said so. Even as a child, he knew of the repercussions that would come if he did not finish sweeping the corners first before gathering up the dust, he knew of the dangers of dropping grades in a public school -- not that his grades are what define him, but rather, the result of being excluded from the high performer classes would cast him into the muddied spirit of rowdiness in the normal classes. That, mother had warned, would corrupt his destiny, his potential, and ultimately, his life. he had to attempt his best to do what was expected of him. In times where my mental capacity constrains me. Instead of facing it head on, I work on my body. I hurt, and the part of the brain that registers pain. It Needs to find a closure that is yet to be possible (that I can’t give). I can only transpose its notes into music i can perform, my body an instrument sweating profusely, feeling the physicality of my men...