Of license plates and identities

breastpocketdiaries

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Stuck in traffic one morning, my mind wandered across the unfriendly exhaust fumes from the rickety space bus in front me, and settled on the vehicle’s number plate. It was registered ER 2555 B –the alphabet B being indicative of its age. Mehn! ! I said to myself, that trotro must have been licensed when Noah made his ark. What did it have to show for its age? A couple of missing windows (like the mouth of a nonagenarian), worn out tires, falling out seats, and a door that wouldn’t shut with a slight heave. But in its bus life, had this Willow brook bus achieved its bus purpose?

It’s interesting how people sometimes are quick to remind us of their age once they realize we’re trespassing a certain line of respect. They wear their B age proudly on their sleeve like a medal from the 2

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Best Before………See End of Package

breastpocketdiaries

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In passing, a friend made a comment about how long he expected his current relationship to last. The projected lifetime for this relationship was a maximum of six months. With this in mind, how much commitment would he be willing to give? What would he be willing to invest in this kind of relationship that has an expiry date even before it starts?

Issues relating to the heart are of a delicate nature, and it would be understandable that a person would want to protect his heart from being broken. However, if you erect the wall of Berlin around your heart, it would be impossible for you to be loved, and for you to love wholly. Like someone said, boundaries don’t keep other people out-they fence you in. One thing life does for no one is to insulate us against pain, disappointments and hurts. Yet, the beauty of life is…

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In Love With The Mona Lisa

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Varnish adorns furniture, and makes it look more beautiful than it actually is. It conceals the imperfections and deceives the eye into believing the existence of flawlessness. I heard the story of a man who had such high expectations of the lady he wanted to marry that everyone fell short. He had high ideas of how she should dress, eat, walk, and even brush her teeth. Well, he ended up with one who fit his model perfectly. The only catch was that she had an alter ego. In his presence, she was all he wanted. In his absence, she let down her hair and allowed her true nature to come forth. If she was Cinderella when he was around, she became the wicked witch of the west when he left. In his mind, he had the perfect Mona Lisa, but in reality, what he had wasn’t even worthy for…

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Make It Happen

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In my mind, this post was written about a year ago, had about five thousand likes already, and had been shared about a million times. I guess a mirage would have been more realistic than this, because it’ll be so hard for you to like and share something that remains part of my thoughts.

I realized most people have things they never get round to doing. We can give it a fanciful name like procrastination, or if we’re more honest, we’ll call it sheer laziness and a lack of enough self-discipline. So our big plans and ideas remain no better than Egyptian mummies, forever hopeless and silent in pyramids of brick and mortar. A perfectionist may hold on forever, waiting for the perfect moment, perfect timing, perfect conditions. Well, unless you‘re acting an American movie with sound effects, life would hardly present you with the perfect conditions. In a way…

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