Women tell us that their ideal man is loyal and solid,spiritual, good-humored, romantic, caring and sensitive, and
committed to family values. But if women truly select such men, why are caring, romantic-minded men routinely
dumped for apparent losers and showboat guys who couldn’t care less about the prized women they’re dating?
Every man, of every race, color, creed, height, and financial status, has the same dream: There is a special
person out there. She is beautiful and good, the kind of person who inspires you to your very best, so you can fight
all the battles, right all the wrongs. It’s destiny. There’s a magical moment when you know that she is for you, and you
for her. And then you live happily ever after, with a batch of kids and a house like a small patch of heaven.
Reality, however, is profoundly different from romantic fantasy. Today there are any number of obstacles
standing between you and the woman you are interested in.
There are advantages and disadvantages to every possible factor: appearance, personality, race, height, popularity,
financial status, social status. The list goes on and on with factors people never state openly.(Most of these factors are subconscious)
Have you ever gotten up enough nerve to call or talk to a beautiful, interesting woman only to be completely
rejected for an unknown reason?
It’s not about confidence. Consider one study on race.
Three people-- a white man, an Asian woman, and a Japanese man were seeking romance in Tokyo, so they
posted personal ads seeking romance in the Tokyo Classified Ads, Japan’s largest free circulation publication. Within a
few weeks, the Asian woman received close to two hundred replies to her personal ad, from men of all races. The white
man received about 100 replies from interested Japanese women. The Japanese man received only two replies, both
from men who had mistaken his name for a woman’s name.
So much for the Gaijin Theory !
Another study was done on height. There was an American TV special where a news crew performed a kind of
poll to see how women might view height as a romantic factor. The news crew lined up about 10 men of varying
height, and they put them behind a double mirror, where they could be viewed by a parade of passing women. Because of
the double mirror, the men could see only reflections of themselves, while the women could see each of the men
clearly.
The news crew gave the women false information about each man behind the glass. For example, they told the
women that certain men were doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs, writers, and had various occupations. They
even gave the women false personality profiles of the men.
For example, they pretended one man was a good cook who loved kids and enjoyed gardening, while another loved
karate, hated kids, and ate Chinese food a lot.
Then the news crew polled the women. They asked
the women which of the men they would be interested in as possible boyfriends. The results of their poll showed that in
America, the men under 167 cm (i.e. 5 ft. 6 inches) were never chosen as boyfriends, even if they were portrayed as
millionaires with outstanding personalities.(I'm a modest 5 ft 9 inches, i.e I'm five feet tall and nine inches long)
Even when a woman says that she consciouly doesn't have such criteria , subconsciously she will.Some women like bad boys, some like married men, some like them black , some hate black , some are into gays , and some daddy's little girls are looking for a surrogate father figure.
I bet the same goes for men too.
Sadly, there’s an old theory that comes to mind: the more advanced the information technology, the more openly
short height in men and obesity in women are detested.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
14 Rules
Fourteen surefire lessons you will come across by
experience :
1. The only person who appreciates your gifts is the person
who is in love with you anyway, without the gifts.(Corollary:A
woman will always accept your gift regardless of whether she
likes you or not)
2. “If he takes two steps forward, don’t trust him because
he wants something. If he takes two steps back, then he
didn’t get what he wanted, so he’s now acting like a
jerk.”(yup , all men want something more from a woman, even if
they claim only friendship)
3. The competition is always a jerk.
4. If you’re interested in someone, their best friend and
confidante secretly has a murderous hatred for you.
5. (Murphy’s Law) On a date, anything that can go wrong,
will go wrong.
6. Real men don’t make the first move. Women supply the
hint. Men supply the specifics.
7. Everything goes wrong on a camping trip.
8. No matter who you are, somebody in the world will have
a crush on you, sometime in your life; the hard part is
getting yourself to have a crush on them.
9. Flirting does not mean they like you; it means the
person’s flirting.(Sometimes its only for practice or out of habit)
10. The man always apologizes, even if it’s not his fault.
(Corollary: A woman will apologise grudgingly...and she will make
you pay heavily for making her apologise.Be a man , let it go.)
11. When two people break up, the man sees it as sudden and
shocking. The woman sees it as a long chain of events
ending in a breakup.
12. Men are always interested in the same women as other men are.
The rest of the women are backup plans.
13. Women are always interested in the same men as other
women are. The rest of the men are backup plans.
14. Older girls consider money first and physical attraction
second.
experience :
1. The only person who appreciates your gifts is the person
who is in love with you anyway, without the gifts.(Corollary:A
woman will always accept your gift regardless of whether she
likes you or not)
2. “If he takes two steps forward, don’t trust him because
he wants something. If he takes two steps back, then he
didn’t get what he wanted, so he’s now acting like a
jerk.”(yup , all men want something more from a woman, even if
they claim only friendship)
3. The competition is always a jerk.
4. If you’re interested in someone, their best friend and
confidante secretly has a murderous hatred for you.
5. (Murphy’s Law) On a date, anything that can go wrong,
will go wrong.
6. Real men don’t make the first move. Women supply the
hint. Men supply the specifics.
7. Everything goes wrong on a camping trip.
8. No matter who you are, somebody in the world will have
a crush on you, sometime in your life; the hard part is
getting yourself to have a crush on them.
9. Flirting does not mean they like you; it means the
person’s flirting.(Sometimes its only for practice or out of habit)
10. The man always apologizes, even if it’s not his fault.
(Corollary: A woman will apologise grudgingly...and she will make
you pay heavily for making her apologise.Be a man , let it go.)
11. When two people break up, the man sees it as sudden and
shocking. The woman sees it as a long chain of events
ending in a breakup.
12. Men are always interested in the same women as other men are.
The rest of the women are backup plans.
13. Women are always interested in the same men as other
women are. The rest of the men are backup plans.
14. Older girls consider money first and physical attraction
second.
Stultify
It's not denial. I'm just selective about the reality I accept. - Bill Watterson
These days I don't know if I should laugh or cry at myself .
I feel like doing both.
No one is legally allowed to stultify himself.This was the premise from which the novel Catch-22 (and the subsequent phrase) was born.
But I think I'm going crazy...gradually.I never thought I'd be a passive observer in my own ascent to lunacy, but it's happening.
It's those voices in my head(C'mon , don't lie , you got them too, I can hear them).
No , they aren't speaking in tongues...not yet ,but they have a tendency to speak in accents.
These accents range from the lazy texan drawl (howwwdie paardner !) , to ghetto hip hop (yo !yo ! ma man ! wassup dog ?) to limey green irish brogue(that's cricit innit ?) to the silly count dracula faux eurotrash english(I weel dreenk your blaad !) to apu indian accent (Iyyam very sorry , oh dear lord ganesha !)
I'm also in pain.
Physical and mental anguish.
My wisdom tooth erupting in my lower jaw has been the source of a low and continous throbbing pain for the last three days.
It feels like a minor ...uh...uh...dammit , I can't find the word I'm looking for ...uh...oh yeah , right , gottit ...it feels like a mild and continous ...dammit ...I forgot the word again ...uh...it feels like a mild hangover...Yeah , that's what it feels like...a perennial hangover...and I keep prodding my gums with my tongue, trying to pry them away , hoping to make some space for the new wisdom tooth to erupt.
I guess one has to pay for wisdom with some pain.
No pain , no gain , that's what they say...
Hey ! what was I talking about ?
Ah , yes , tis the season to stultify thyself...
But guess what ,
I'm not suffering from insanity.
I'm enjoying every moment of it.
These days I don't know if I should laugh or cry at myself .
I feel like doing both.
No one is legally allowed to stultify himself.This was the premise from which the novel Catch-22 (and the subsequent phrase) was born.
But I think I'm going crazy...gradually.I never thought I'd be a passive observer in my own ascent to lunacy, but it's happening.
It's those voices in my head(C'mon , don't lie , you got them too, I can hear them).
No , they aren't speaking in tongues...not yet ,but they have a tendency to speak in accents.
These accents range from the lazy texan drawl (howwwdie paardner !) , to ghetto hip hop (yo !yo ! ma man ! wassup dog ?) to limey green irish brogue(that's cricit innit ?) to the silly count dracula faux eurotrash english(I weel dreenk your blaad !) to apu indian accent (Iyyam very sorry , oh dear lord ganesha !)
I'm also in pain.
Physical and mental anguish.
My wisdom tooth erupting in my lower jaw has been the source of a low and continous throbbing pain for the last three days.
It feels like a minor ...uh...uh...dammit , I can't find the word I'm looking for ...uh...oh yeah , right , gottit ...it feels like a mild and continous ...dammit ...I forgot the word again ...uh...it feels like a mild hangover...Yeah , that's what it feels like...a perennial hangover...and I keep prodding my gums with my tongue, trying to pry them away , hoping to make some space for the new wisdom tooth to erupt.
I guess one has to pay for wisdom with some pain.
No pain , no gain , that's what they say...
Hey ! what was I talking about ?
Ah , yes , tis the season to stultify thyself...
But guess what ,
I'm not suffering from insanity.
I'm enjoying every moment of it.
Trust No One
Dear Sir,
I recently came to know that you don't trust us.
Regardless of your trust , I will discharge my duties and carry out my responsibilities to the fullest extent of my abilities and truthfully abide by all laws that apply to me.
Sir , regarding yourself , I must be brutally honest while I give you some feedback.
Your reputation precedes you.Past associations routinely perform your character assasinations using only superlatives.Your lineage , ancestry and parentage are regularly attributed to lower order animals , which I think is insulting to those animals.Your relationships with your family are frequently described to be incestous , vulgar and pederastous.
Plainly speaking , none of my colleagues , or yours , would want to be associated with a man of your stature and history.They would rather
1)Gouge their eyes ( 51 % of the polled chose this option)
2)Scald themselves with molten lava(43 %)
3)Simply spit on you (The rest)
Regarding trust, it is an open secret that you routinely and surreptiously record our conversations.It seems that either you trust no one or that you get voyeuristic pleasure out of our mundane conversation.We know of you pathetic attempts of espionage/subterfuge and we humour you.
Sir, in my opinion and of others, you are truly an immoral , despicable man with no shred of scruples about you.You are a control freak who has himself gone out of control.
But, despite you , We as your subordinates , will discharge our duties faithfully and to the best of our abilities.
And that's a promise we make to ourselves.We salute to integrity and honour.(our's, that is)
Your Faithfully (I jest here)
I recently came to know that you don't trust us.
Regardless of your trust , I will discharge my duties and carry out my responsibilities to the fullest extent of my abilities and truthfully abide by all laws that apply to me.
Sir , regarding yourself , I must be brutally honest while I give you some feedback.
Your reputation precedes you.Past associations routinely perform your character assasinations using only superlatives.Your lineage , ancestry and parentage are regularly attributed to lower order animals , which I think is insulting to those animals.Your relationships with your family are frequently described to be incestous , vulgar and pederastous.
Plainly speaking , none of my colleagues , or yours , would want to be associated with a man of your stature and history.They would rather
1)Gouge their eyes ( 51 % of the polled chose this option)
2)Scald themselves with molten lava(43 %)
3)Simply spit on you (The rest)
Regarding trust, it is an open secret that you routinely and surreptiously record our conversations.It seems that either you trust no one or that you get voyeuristic pleasure out of our mundane conversation.We know of you pathetic attempts of espionage/subterfuge and we humour you.
Sir, in my opinion and of others, you are truly an immoral , despicable man with no shred of scruples about you.You are a control freak who has himself gone out of control.
But, despite you , We as your subordinates , will discharge our duties faithfully and to the best of our abilities.
And that's a promise we make to ourselves.We salute to integrity and honour.(our's, that is)
Your Faithfully (I jest here)
Metaphor
Once, a famous teacher was returning home from an important lecture he had just delivered to a
group of esteemed colleagues, and was absorbed in the accolades he had received. His route took him
along a beach-side boardwalk where something caught his eye. A young boy on the beach was building the largest and most elaborate sand castle the teacher had ever seen. The child was respectfully
scooping the sand up in his hands, then patting it firmly yet gently into place. He had carefully created
towers and turrets, dug a moat, and raised flags, in total absorption.
When the boy completed his impressive work of art, he rested back on the sand, appearing to
admire his own work. Then, suddenly, he leapt forward, jumped on the castle, smashed it down,
spread it over the sand, and watched as wave after wave washed away any evidence of its existence. It
was as though the castle had never existed.
The teacher was shocked.
What a waste! Why should such an achievement be obliterated? Why would a creator destroy his own work?
He walked across the beach and asked the boy, “Why do youspend so much time and effort building such a huge and elaborate castle only to break it down?”
“My parents have asked me the same question,” confided the boy. “My mother sees something
very symbolic in it, but then that is my mother. She tells me that each grain of sand is like each aspect
of humanity. Together they can form something impressive but, when we forget about our relationships
with others and try to exist like a solitary grain of sand, something is destroyed in much
the same way that I destroy a castle, or that the ocean breaks it up into millions of pieces and disperses
it along the beach.
“My father says it is a way of learning about life. Nothing lasts forever. Like sand castles, everything
is created and destroyed, exists and vanishes, is impermanent. When we appreciate this we can
begin to enjoy the time that we have available. He says that building sand castles is a way that children
intuitively come to learn and understand these important lessons of life.
“For me?” asked the boy. “For me, I am just playing. I just want to enjoy what I am doing and
have fun.”
The lecturer untied his shoelaces and cast aside his footwear. He peeled off his socks and rolled up his trousers. He un-knotted his tie and sat down beside the boy, asking, “May I stay and play with you?
group of esteemed colleagues, and was absorbed in the accolades he had received. His route took him
along a beach-side boardwalk where something caught his eye. A young boy on the beach was building the largest and most elaborate sand castle the teacher had ever seen. The child was respectfully
scooping the sand up in his hands, then patting it firmly yet gently into place. He had carefully created
towers and turrets, dug a moat, and raised flags, in total absorption.
When the boy completed his impressive work of art, he rested back on the sand, appearing to
admire his own work. Then, suddenly, he leapt forward, jumped on the castle, smashed it down,
spread it over the sand, and watched as wave after wave washed away any evidence of its existence. It
was as though the castle had never existed.
The teacher was shocked.
What a waste! Why should such an achievement be obliterated? Why would a creator destroy his own work?
He walked across the beach and asked the boy, “Why do youspend so much time and effort building such a huge and elaborate castle only to break it down?”
“My parents have asked me the same question,” confided the boy. “My mother sees something
very symbolic in it, but then that is my mother. She tells me that each grain of sand is like each aspect
of humanity. Together they can form something impressive but, when we forget about our relationships
with others and try to exist like a solitary grain of sand, something is destroyed in much
the same way that I destroy a castle, or that the ocean breaks it up into millions of pieces and disperses
it along the beach.
“My father says it is a way of learning about life. Nothing lasts forever. Like sand castles, everything
is created and destroyed, exists and vanishes, is impermanent. When we appreciate this we can
begin to enjoy the time that we have available. He says that building sand castles is a way that children
intuitively come to learn and understand these important lessons of life.
“For me?” asked the boy. “For me, I am just playing. I just want to enjoy what I am doing and
have fun.”
The lecturer untied his shoelaces and cast aside his footwear. He peeled off his socks and rolled up his trousers. He un-knotted his tie and sat down beside the boy, asking, “May I stay and play with you?
Promise
Here is the truth.
To live is to fight, for this world is but a hurricane of challenges all aimed at you.
If it ever becomes too much, if you get down on your life, you will look for encouragement.
And you will not find it.
Everyone puts on the appearance that they want the best for you, that they want you to succeed.
But in reality, the thing they least want is you to succeed.
They want you to fail!
When you start to change your life, people will notice it.
They will not like it. We all get used to placing people in certain 'categories'. You're showing them that there is more to you than they thought. That instead of letting life define you, you are defining life yourself. You're literally fighting for life and this makes them uncomfortable because they didn't (and once they realize it, they know it is too late!).
Endure. For it is the same for 99% of the people, they get grounded up into comformity and become bewildered as their lives become more and more joyless. They will feel threatened by you. You may even want to stop your metamorphosis by how uncomfortable it is to others you knew and even for yourself.
But those who stop can never realize their dreams and so never can be truly who they are.
The more successful you become in life, the more and more people will despise you. No one despises the innocent Nice Girl who happily takes orders. But everyone envies the one who knows what she wants and takes it.
All your married friends... they want you to fail. They will whisper in your ear that you should do like they did.
All your friends... they want you to fail. They will confer to you that you ought to shrug off these 'ideas' of yours. "Live like us!" they will tell you.
Most people remain static all their lives. They do not change and cannot change. They are basically the same now as they were five years from now.
But YOU are totally different, for now you have improved and refined yourself while they stayed the same in their vaporous habits.
Imagine they are gathering in a circle around you and your life. They are all taking bets on when you will stop and fail. And when you do, they will let out a sigh of relief and say, "Thank goodness!"
People do not want you to succeed, especially people you've known your entire life. They want you to stay the same or fail.
Their lives can only succeed by seeing you fail.
For nothing can overtake the power of Endurance!
Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.
Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.
Education will not; the world is full of educated failures.
Endurance alone is power ultimate.
You and I have come a long way...
Our journey has just reached the crossroads of tough decisions and some hard ones have to be made.
These decisions will hurt you and your loved ones.
But it is only temporary.
You are in it for the long run.
A life just begun living , with miles to go, many milestones to cross.
So endure.
We are more than the sum of our parts.
We are the sum of our endurance.
And promise me that we will not let others define us any longer.
To live is to fight, for this world is but a hurricane of challenges all aimed at you.
If it ever becomes too much, if you get down on your life, you will look for encouragement.
And you will not find it.
Everyone puts on the appearance that they want the best for you, that they want you to succeed.
But in reality, the thing they least want is you to succeed.
They want you to fail!
When you start to change your life, people will notice it.
They will not like it. We all get used to placing people in certain 'categories'. You're showing them that there is more to you than they thought. That instead of letting life define you, you are defining life yourself. You're literally fighting for life and this makes them uncomfortable because they didn't (and once they realize it, they know it is too late!).
Endure. For it is the same for 99% of the people, they get grounded up into comformity and become bewildered as their lives become more and more joyless. They will feel threatened by you. You may even want to stop your metamorphosis by how uncomfortable it is to others you knew and even for yourself.
But those who stop can never realize their dreams and so never can be truly who they are.
The more successful you become in life, the more and more people will despise you. No one despises the innocent Nice Girl who happily takes orders. But everyone envies the one who knows what she wants and takes it.
All your married friends... they want you to fail. They will whisper in your ear that you should do like they did.
All your friends... they want you to fail. They will confer to you that you ought to shrug off these 'ideas' of yours. "Live like us!" they will tell you.
Most people remain static all their lives. They do not change and cannot change. They are basically the same now as they were five years from now.
But YOU are totally different, for now you have improved and refined yourself while they stayed the same in their vaporous habits.
Imagine they are gathering in a circle around you and your life. They are all taking bets on when you will stop and fail. And when you do, they will let out a sigh of relief and say, "Thank goodness!"
People do not want you to succeed, especially people you've known your entire life. They want you to stay the same or fail.
Their lives can only succeed by seeing you fail.
For nothing can overtake the power of Endurance!
Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.
Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.
Education will not; the world is full of educated failures.
Endurance alone is power ultimate.
You and I have come a long way...
Our journey has just reached the crossroads of tough decisions and some hard ones have to be made.
These decisions will hurt you and your loved ones.
But it is only temporary.
You are in it for the long run.
A life just begun living , with miles to go, many milestones to cross.
So endure.
We are more than the sum of our parts.
We are the sum of our endurance.
And promise me that we will not let others define us any longer.
Aspire
What are your hobbies ?
Um...er...well...
I can't dance ! I say.
She finds it funny and somewhat expected.Women somehow expect men to be bad at dancing.
Hey ! Glad to fit the stereotype !
Lets hear what other people have to say about my stellar dancing skills : People have said that when I dance I look like an armless man with an itch up his crotch .
(Take some time to digest that and visualize an armless man with an itch in the crotch.It is not funny.At least not for the armless guy)
I've heard one even saying that I dance with all the grace of a thousand one legged scarecrows, and he claims he was putting it mildly.
I can sing though .
I sing and I badly play my guitar.People say I'm okay , that I don't make them run screaming in pain (like when I blinded them with my crotch-itch-one-legged-scarecrow dance) ...and then I've broken my wrist once , punching a punching bag filled with sand...
(try sawdust numbnuts !...its what others fill it with !)
...and injured my achilles tendon delivering a spinning heel kick to the same punching bag...and in my defense , I was practising karate , or whatever I knew of it.
...Aaaaaaand sometimes I write.
Her eyes widen imperceptibly.
You a poet ? she asks.
No No , I'm not a poet, I say vehemently denying such an allegation.
I say I write short stories , try to make them funny , add in experiences that might be unique to some people, and basically write stuff that people would like to read to pass their time, but no , I don't write poetry.
Nosirreebob!
(Its better to lie that you don't write poetry than to admit that you write crappy poetry, atleast that's what I think.)
What do you aspire to be ?
I aspire to be an aspiring writer.
I know , I know , it sounds so smart alecky , but that's the truth.
Hey ,I want to keep my day job honey! It's an honest living , and I make decent money and best of all I get to say "Arrr Matey , down the sails and avast those landlubbers ! "
Now that's a job worth keeping.
Arrrrrr... matey !
I enjoy writing.
Writing's not the way though.At least for me.
Why ?
What I lack is the discipline to complete.
After the initial burst of inspiration , somewhere down the line, everything goes pfft ! like moisture dampening a cracker fuse.It is almost impossible for me to continue and complete after the pfft ! point.
The pfft ! point is not something new.Everyone goes through it , but some see through it by the sheer force of their will.
For me though it is hard to sustain enthusiasm for a long time .
But hey , I'm not strangling my dreams by choosing this life.I write whenever I want to , I sing whenever I want to and ...well I don't punch and kick whenever I want to, because there was this incident involving the drunk longshoreman and the doberman pinscher and...well , I'll tell the rest of the story some other time.
I guess , if I were a writer , I'd churn out stuff like this , just to keep some bank balance.
"Thank you for choosing _ made only from premium quality fresh milk .
_ comes from happy healthy prime dairy cows living in the cool highlands of East java on one of Asia's most technologically advanced dairy farms.
This milk is prepared using modern automatic milking technology ensuring the quality , freshness and premium fresh milk taste.'
In other words -A COMPLETE SELLOUT .
What a load of crap.
"Happy Healthy prime dairy cows ?"
Call no cow happy till it has a milking machine sucking it's udder off.
I know ...what a load of ...but that's the kind of writer I'd be if I wanted monetary gains , but by selling my soul.
I can't do that.
So for the time being , let me aspire to be an aspiring writer.
Um...er...well...
I can't dance ! I say.
She finds it funny and somewhat expected.Women somehow expect men to be bad at dancing.
Hey ! Glad to fit the stereotype !
Lets hear what other people have to say about my stellar dancing skills : People have said that when I dance I look like an armless man with an itch up his crotch .
(Take some time to digest that and visualize an armless man with an itch in the crotch.It is not funny.At least not for the armless guy)
I've heard one even saying that I dance with all the grace of a thousand one legged scarecrows, and he claims he was putting it mildly.
I can sing though .
I sing and I badly play my guitar.People say I'm okay , that I don't make them run screaming in pain (like when I blinded them with my crotch-itch-one-legged-scarecrow dance) ...and then I've broken my wrist once , punching a punching bag filled with sand...
(try sawdust numbnuts !...its what others fill it with !)
...and injured my achilles tendon delivering a spinning heel kick to the same punching bag...and in my defense , I was practising karate , or whatever I knew of it.
...Aaaaaaand sometimes I write.
Her eyes widen imperceptibly.
You a poet ? she asks.
No No , I'm not a poet, I say vehemently denying such an allegation.
I say I write short stories , try to make them funny , add in experiences that might be unique to some people, and basically write stuff that people would like to read to pass their time, but no , I don't write poetry.
Nosirreebob!
(Its better to lie that you don't write poetry than to admit that you write crappy poetry, atleast that's what I think.)
What do you aspire to be ?
I aspire to be an aspiring writer.
I know , I know , it sounds so smart alecky , but that's the truth.
Hey ,I want to keep my day job honey! It's an honest living , and I make decent money and best of all I get to say "Arrr Matey , down the sails and avast those landlubbers ! "
Now that's a job worth keeping.
Arrrrrr... matey !
I enjoy writing.
Writing's not the way though.At least for me.
Why ?
What I lack is the discipline to complete.
After the initial burst of inspiration , somewhere down the line, everything goes pfft ! like moisture dampening a cracker fuse.It is almost impossible for me to continue and complete after the pfft ! point.
The pfft ! point is not something new.Everyone goes through it , but some see through it by the sheer force of their will.
For me though it is hard to sustain enthusiasm for a long time .
But hey , I'm not strangling my dreams by choosing this life.I write whenever I want to , I sing whenever I want to and ...well I don't punch and kick whenever I want to, because there was this incident involving the drunk longshoreman and the doberman pinscher and...well , I'll tell the rest of the story some other time.
I guess , if I were a writer , I'd churn out stuff like this , just to keep some bank balance.
"Thank you for choosing _ made only from premium quality fresh milk .
_ comes from happy healthy prime dairy cows living in the cool highlands of East java on one of Asia's most technologically advanced dairy farms.
This milk is prepared using modern automatic milking technology ensuring the quality , freshness and premium fresh milk taste.'
In other words -A COMPLETE SELLOUT .
What a load of crap.
"Happy Healthy prime dairy cows ?"
Call no cow happy till it has a milking machine sucking it's udder off.
I know ...what a load of ...but that's the kind of writer I'd be if I wanted monetary gains , but by selling my soul.
I can't do that.
So for the time being , let me aspire to be an aspiring writer.
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