Would you believe if I told you that I could fly? Would believe if I told you that I’m actually a witch in disguise? (OK, don’t answer that)
What I’m trying to get at is that when we’re too grown up to believe in Santa Clause, why do we believe in other myths? Like love at first sight. Like soul mates. Like eternal bliss. Like god. Like One Love. Like platonic love. Do we really believe that someone can love us if they looked into our eyes and saw the ugly thoughts we’re thinking? Who’re we kidding? Sure all of us know that there is no truth in the perfect relationship, the perfect job, the perfect whatever. In fact, we all know that the word perfect is just that. A word. It exists nowhere else. It’s a myth we want to believe in. A myth that is propagated with great enthusiasm by TV, books, movies. A myth all of us lap up like it’s going out of fashion. How many of us grew up reading Mills and Boons (yes u 'guys', u too) imagining that one day a dark knight will sweep us off our feet and send shivers down our spines with one touch? (Sure it has happened to all of us. Only the shivers are out of fright) Now go ahead and tell me that this has really happened to you and I will believe you. I would also urge to start living outside your dreams.
Though, on second thoughts, the world of dreams is a much better place to live in that the cold, harsh drudgery called reality, that’s really an excuse for a life.
There I go again. Surprising myself unexpectedly. (Aren’t all surprises unexpected?) Anyway, I just figured that I can’t figure out myself. While I started out wanting to break myths, here I am propagating them.
Scary food for thought No.1. Imagine if I were ever sent on a peace commission to an enemy country. (If the shivers haven’t started already, you better start worrying)