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Rain Drops.

October 10, 2008

 

There are times when I’d think that giving up may just be the right choice. Of course, during those times, I’d either be highly depressed, bored out of my wits or just plain knackered.

 

A bottle of beer, or a whole case, won’t be enough to lift whatever’s left of a downed spirit. Trashy porn or brainless comedies may shed a few minutes off of boredom but it won’t entirely be won over. With anger, you either thrash your room or flame some unlucky newbie on an online game, before finally getting beaten by fatigue. The good thing about the law of impenetrability is that you can’t be three different things at the same time. Unless of course, you’re a girl or losing is the only option left.

 

There are many times when I’d rather lose the game than continue playing against the inevitable fall. There’s just this nagging feeling of hopelessness, of a horrible truth that seems so dignified, so cultured, enough to withstand your well-aimed spit. A noble name made flashier by leopard fur coats and an obviously exaggerated accent. A regular Joe would think less of himself in the midst of the elitist faker. Graying hair complemented only by the graying skies, the wilting daisies and his dying enthusiasm. Everything comes to a complete halt every now and then.

 

As rain continued to pour down the unyielding asphalt, the unmistakably eerie silence of an empty street was torture to my sleepy wake. At both ends, there didn’t seem to be anything waiting for me. So for a few more minutes, I just stood there. I didn’t know what would happen next. I expected some sort of grace to fall from above but I knew something that unexpected would only happen when I won’t expect it to happen. Life procrastinates just like anyone else.

 

A gentle tug on my shirt by some child who wants to learn something new, a sweet smile that serves as an anti-depressant and inspiration to tired hands, and a warm hug that could put Starbucks’ head to the bankruptcy guillotine…

 

An uncertain future versus a glorious present? On a crippled plane or a motorcycle? Not money, glory nor fame, can top a hot cup of chocolate with my muse.

 

 

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