Monday, January 18, 2010

The Pole.

It happens with time, and it happens with words. It is a sequence of consecutive lies, sorrows, hopes, miseries, pain and loves. You break your bone and you stand back. And then you fall again. Profound as it is, it is not happening only with you. A man walking down the street is not aware of the fact that a microsecond later his body will be in a pool of blood since the pole that he was struck with was meant to be repaired by the electrician who did not come to work that day since his wife left him for another man who got rich by winning a lottery after picking up a chit of mere paper thrown by a kid whose father had just died because of a stupid wrecked pole. It’s all in a jinxed link.

My miseries might be the consequence of your actions, but they’re completely my responsibility. So when it comes to going through and winning over them, it’s the player in me that is going to sieve through the stiff times. And come out, without getting struck by a pole.


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Ana. said...

Well, thank you. I never knew I had appreciators! Sure with the conversation, only if I knew who you were!

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