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When It Hits You

There will come a time in life when you feel like giving up. A time when everything you thought you had figured out, will bounce back to your face.

The series’ that you loved to watch will reach their finale, at the same damn time. Game of Thrones will come and go, within two months. Everything that made you look forward to a new day at the office's fast wireless fidelity will come to an end. That is when you will realise how full of crap that career path you thought you loved so much is. Without the zoom versus flash distractions, you will clearly see your internship for what it is, complete bullshit. You'll realise that instead of hacking The World Bank like you thought you'd do, you'll be stapling documents for the people who work for the people, who unsuccessfully hack company websites. It’s at that moment you realise you have been living a lie. All those coding classes you took, all those Bucky tutorials you watched, The Internship- the movie- everything will turn into a big bunch of lie.

You will want to quit your current profession and start another career path, but you won't. Not because you are a no-quitter, but because you are more of a coward than you are a quitter. You will tell yourself it is because your parents won't buy that shit about a career change. But deep down, you'll know, the only thing that stopped you from running away from your failed dreams, is your fear of new things, new environments. Isn't that the reason you stayed with your previous ex, two months after they lied to you and cheated on you? After all that you still gave them the chance to dump you, for that person with whom they cheated on you with. You were so scared of the angel you didn't know, that you preferred staying with your little lying devil. The day you share a bed after your breakup will be the day you lose your dignity. The day you buy them data to upload their #WCW’s and #MCM’s will be the day you lose respect for yourself.

That month, there will be a lot of anniversaries and new loves, popping all over. Social media will turn into a craze of 1st, 2nd, 3rd anniversaries. 2-week old bae's and boo's will crush on each other every Monday, and Wednesday. 2-month old boo's and bae's will go on road trips. All these shall be posted on Instagram. 2-year old bae's and boo's will go to boo's rural home to meet their family. Heck, even the ones you thought were losers because they got themselves knocked up will receive an Instagram post from their estranged baby daddies. You minus your dignity and self-respect will want to disappear to infinity. You will consider selling everything you own and get yourself a ticket out of this cruel world, where the sun shines shamelessly, and the stars twinkle perfectly, as though they aren't aware that your soul is on its death-bed. But you won't, because in as much as the world that cries when you cry sounds good, you are terrified of changes, plus it probably doesn't exist.

Your predicaments will get you thinking about your father or mother. The first man or woman, to walk out on you. You will, for a second consider blaming all your failed relationships on them, but you will quickly brush off the idea; daddy and mommy issues are a white man problem. Father and mother’s day will come and you will curse social media. Every ‘I love you daddy’ ‘I love you mommy’ post will get you like, that could be us but…you abandoned us and never looked back. That could be us but you have a new family. That could be us but I doubt you even remember my second name. You will be tempted to call them, but like any other bad ex, you deleted their numbers from your phone, but it still rings in your mind. You will not call them, because like any bad ex, they would bring up excuses like ‘I lost all my contacts with my other phone’ to justify why they hadn’t called for the past 6 months, and God knows you’ve had enough of that bullshit. So, like any good ex, you will keep off their new life, and outwardly wish them all the best in their new life, when you inwardly wish that aliens kidnap them and their whole family to planet X.

You'll consider turning to drugs to bury your problems, a plan you'll execute for close to three days until your bottle runs out of booze, and your pocket out of cash. Fortunately, you won't have turned into an addict, just yet; in the game of life that is 1 point for you against an infinity of points for the universe.

You will give up trying to run away from your problems. You will kiss ass, because that is what the world has reduced you to. You will coil back to your sorry existence. You will continue playing Superhero to your younger siblings who think the world of you and want to be just like you when they are your age; you will pray God doesn't grant them that particular wish. You will make courtesy visits to your relatives who helped get you out of jail that one time you got arrested; by the way, they can't wait to attend your graduation the coming year. You will suck up your differences with your internship program, and enjoy stapling and pinning those documents for as long as is required of you. You will continue double tapping those posts and give comments on how ‘cute you guys look together.' You will redirect your tears to someplace far from your face, your heart, for instance. Let it do the crying for a while. Most importantly, you will look for your smile and you will put it on.


Then you will live life, hoping that the 2nd point you get in the life versus universe game, will be a Shrink. You will need to tell somebody your story before the mid-life crisis hits you; otherwise, you'll go crazy. Let's face it, you may be cute, but not hot enough to be crazy. So before you deal with another life crisis, somebody needs to hear about your story, about that time you went through your quarter-life crisis.

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