Where we all fall down, like drunk leaves with suicidal tendencies

I keep wondering whether love and hate are actually the same thing; they vary only in degrees. Like if you keep turning the love dial, you will eventually land into hate land. And, somehow, hate just seems like a more powerful bond.

What would you do with a million smiles?

Would you hoard them? Keep them close to you, put them in a some cupboard somewhere? Place it under lock and key, and sneak a peek at them every other day, gloating over all the happiness?

Would you have a hundred of your family relatives banging at your door, asking you to part with them, after all The Family needs it? Would they all be plotting your death, manipulating you so that your will bequeaths whatever they want.

Or would you just hand them over, to everyone who passed you by? Would you keep a stash of them in your backpocket and just pull it out whenever you felt like? Throw it up in the sky and let the winds take the smile wherever the winds wanted to take it?

Can you imagine letting go of someone. Just letting go. Willing your mind to destroy the old memories, and the jokes and the shared embarrassments? Would it come easily and if so, would you be worried how easy it turned out to be? Are we the leaves or are we the branches?

Okay this shit is getting too deep.


I found this awesomely funny comedian:

She has this real awkward, goofy sense of humour. Like it just is funny.

I think what kicked me the most about the bike ride was the getting it done part of it. Just make up your mind, pack your tiny back and go. I liked how there was so little thought put into it.

Thoughts can get heavy you know, real heavy and then the bag gets real mean on your shoulders and the straps bite into your skin and, eventually, you just have to drop the bag and ignore the “Handle with care” signage.

What the efffya

Meta Day it seems.




This entry was posted in aye poda dai, chumma, complete and utter bullshit. Bookmark the permalink.

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