Can You Make Up Your Mind?

You felt bad the whole day when you heard that you weren’t asked to contribute a piece of your work to the magazine that you sort of like…err…like. You have worked so hard on the article for the past few weeks, to the point that the article had become friendlier and friendlier every time you read it. Even the title of the article itself was written in a foreign language before it was translated back to your native word. And it was then polished, and proof read by one of your buddies who thought, and still thinks that it is probably the best title ever written in the history of the magazine that you sort of like…err…like.

And now, you find the article with the best title sitting on your desk, minute by minute, ever more an unpleasant sight. It was such an ugly thing that it would only be right to set fire on it. You were then stunned that the lighter that can be found in the third drawer from the bottom of the second cubicle behind the second bookshelf, wasn’t there. It was then you were reminded that it has been chucked away at the shopping mall after you decided to quit smoking, and before you made a remark of yourself being stupid.

You are a bad person, you thought. But the truth is that you are not just a bad person, you are also fat. There never was a time that you can recall, that you needed a cigarette ever more than this. ‘First, you wanted to set fire on the article. Then you wanted to have a cigarette because you think you are fat. Make up your mind.’ you said to yourself.

In the moment of truth, you finally came to understand why writers, so often lonely, can not make up their mind. You felt good because there’s finally something you can associate yourself with them. You felt good even you had not made up your mind. You felt good even you know the magazine that you sort of like…err…like, will not send you a free copy at the end of the month as the contribution of a piece of your work.