WHEN I’M REALLY BUSY.
THIS IS WHAT I EAT.
I TAKE MY CRACK, VERY… VERY, SERIOUSLY
I AM not, by even the most flexible standard, what you would call a person of a particular faith… I have no investments in god/gods, demon, Buddha, ghost, after-life, next-life, karma, heaven or hell… or paying somebody to tell me that I shouldn’t be moving my furnitures next week. I would almost say that I’m an atheist if I wasn’t in fact, slightly uncomfortable with the absoluteness of such term. When it comes to this stuff, I’m pretty sure the truth is… Nobody knows.
Look, I know there’s an unspoken rule for smart-asses to comment on anything, anything… as long as they don’t touch the subject of religion. So why am I babbling all this and making Jason very nervous? I guess I’m not smart, nor an ass, and also because I don’t want to sound the least bit superstitious when I say that my personality – the genetically coded behaviour – has largely dictated the scripts of how my life is played out. Or as some like to call it, “destiny”. A word I don’t use but I think that my previous 34 years of walking this earth up till now – including this blog, this post, everything leading up this moment – is predetermined by my hard-wired, inexhaustible desire to…
NOT leave my apartment. For as looong as I can.
