The most frustrating thing of all is having this unstoppable sense of urgency in making magic happen, yet for some peculiar reason you put the plan on hiatus although the pressure building up within is imploding from deep within. Being passive- it is your passiveness that slows things down, blow up opportunities, halts progress, deprive you of the most innate and fundamental pleasure (or vice should I call it?) in life. Being submissive to hesitation brings nothing good but an abominable debacle to this precious yet incidental occurrence of chance, in this game of roulette which I was lucky enough to be one of the balls entity spinning in the opposite direction of the tilted track.

I knew it when we met, when the two balls clash, it was the day that we met, and soon will be the day when we lose the momentum, not because we have emptied our energy to dash forward, but it is the day we decide to fall onto the wheel and sail on in unison.

And I will write you a love letter, so beautiful; much, much longer than Orlando, and never to put either of us back to focus again so there can be no right or wrong to it. It is not the time to pray, for no one but me can salvage you and your tired, dreary soul. Trust me, it will be an adventure of a lifetime.

Oh come on honey, who are you to criticize when you are sitting on the (extreme) opposite of the atheistic spectrum as compared to me? Although I hate to admit the sheer truth that my lay back ego needs stress for a strenuous push to perfection, and I ought to thank you fucker for, let me whisper a secret: if this were a profit organization, you would be crushed under the pressure of my right thumb (I am a right-handed is it not?) in merely fraction of section. Femtosecond- as a matter of fact.

The current world being absolutely sad and grueling without refutes, rejoice will come with the eradication of oddballs, this type in particular.

The mother of all ironies is how your ego relentlessly allowing cowardice to take over, when you are so close to the magic you’ve wished so hard, struggled in your dreams with Luna, yearned for seemingly eternity, or simply in a naked bare and stripped pejorative manner: that longest period of time, how joyful is the magician enthralling you with the queer shivers of déjà vu, but when you rub your teary and grateful tears with the back of your hand across your beautiful face, you find revelation staring back at you, it’s piercing look of sadness, for at the bottom of leaves you made yourself too comfortable, the verdict is that you never came close to ultimatum, for you have yet to succumb to..

Or perhaps dare to succumb is a better choice of word to describe the defector in you.

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