The sparks by the end of the drive...

He holds his breath as the present unfolds. He has taken cover and is braced for impact. The last thing he wanted was to grab this much attention. If feels almost like exhibitionism. Something for everyone to finally talk about. He would rather be seen more for his accomplishments, yet as of late those seem sparse and far in-between. He would rather he was looked at for his elegance, for not being just another boy seeking attention. Yet his recent actions have resulted in everything quite the opposite. Like a lion in a cage in a zoo, he is taunted, knowing full well he is at the mercy of their humility. Of their humanity. And that is quite a gamble indeed.

Life is similar to a bus ride. The journey begins when we board the bus. We meet people along our way of which some are strangers, some friends and some strangers yet to be friends. There are stops at intervals and people board in. At times some of these people make their presence felt, leave an impact through their grace and beauty on us fellow passengers while on other occasions they remain indifferent. But then it is important for some people to make an exit, to get down and walk the paths they were destined to because if people always made an entrance and never left either for the better or worse, then we would feel suffocated and confused like those people in the bus, the purpose of the journey would lose its essence and the journey altogether would neither be worthwhile nor smooth.