Solid? Liquid? Gas? Gut?

I believe this thing doesn’t let you know when you’ve had it. It settles in you and before you can do anything against it, you’re diseased. All of us treat it like wild creepers – so long as it doesn’t grow over the wall, why bother hacking it away? Then one fine day, it’s too late. The vine has gone over and it’s disastrously difficult to get rid of. Pulling at it only leaves you with bloody hands prickled by those awful thorns. You try some weed killer but apparently resilience happens to be its’ middle name. Out of ideas, you think, let it be. It’ll look like a natural garden decoration.

So it grows wild and free, and before you know it, you’re forced to do something about it – hack it, burn it, trim it or even spend hundreds or thousands of green on it to make it turn in your favour. Before your hair grows an inch, it’s back with a vengeance on your energy, effort, and most probable of all – money.

We don’t actually seek this thing out. Some actively do actually and they go through all sorts to get it. Some get this unknown high and settle for happily ever after. Realists realize (hence being called realists) that you still have shit to go through with this thing but they look at the pros at the end of the day and maybe the perks too. Personally, I had a piece of advice given to me that if I don’t seek it out, it’ll come to me eventually at its’ own pace.

It starts with fondness, unknown affections, and then you end up enamoured. Obsession may also be the end result if this thing isn’t handled with a sound mind or an ounce of logic. Then again, this thing has been given credit to make a person blind, make the world go round, and even change a man’s life. If you still can’t figure out what I’m talking about, it’s a 4-letter word that does NOT start with the letter F.

Maybe the reason why I’m writing about it is because I’m sick of people taking it lightly. I’m sick of people who play games in the name of this thing. I dislike people who say it to anyone just to get what they want or to get laid. Mostly, I hate people who take it for granted and abuse the privilege given to them by this thing. You still won’t be able to walk naked in -40°C though you have the intention when you have it, so use that God-given brain of yours to think.

There is this wonderfully talented and young singer who was discovered by Oprah, who sang a song titled ‘A note to God’. Unlike my annual imaginary letter to Santa, I wish I could deliver a note to mentioned, awesome person. I can settle with Post-Its too..

I’m still figuring out what I’m meant to do with my life. However, I know that no matter what hundreds of books tell me the ‘in’ thing or right thing to do is, I’ll do it my way, my style. I can think for myself and I don’t need to adopt the practice of another to end up lying to my true self. If you can’t accept me for who I am or treat me like an umbrella that’ll shelter you from rain and wind ALL the time, kindly get adopted by a female gorilla or admit yourself into a mental facility.

I heard both of these options offer you a lifetime of security and protection. Sounds better than insurance, no?