Over the years, i've had several thoughts about what i really want to do with my life. Because i know one thing for sure—even if i'm mistaken about everything else—this existence as a human is not a fluke. Each one of us is here with a purpose. However, very few manage to find theirs. Like i mentioned earlier, i've had thoughts. Real, deep, futile ones but still. Sharing a few that took form of words, is all.
Me: I want to be a fisherman.
ABC: Try Pacific Ocean. Indian Ocean's isn't THAT deep.
Me: I want to be a teacher.
DEF: What are you going to teach? How to become the prime minister of Pessimism?
Me: I want to be a film critic.
GHI: Devere! Just because you're an expert at downloading movies illegally?
Me: I want to be an engineer.
JKL: You're going to make a fine clone of a lower middle-class Indian who pretends to be an upper middle-class Indian. No offence, just kidding!
Me: I want to be a poet.
MNO: For real? Hmm. If i'm hearing you right, you want to die of starvation?
Me: I want to be a photographer.
PQR: Last checked, the world hasn't turned completely blind.
Me: I want to be a farmer.
STU: Are you out of your mind? Or are you forgetting that sun is usually out of the cloud? Or both?
Me: I want to be a writer.
VWX: Going by your blog, you can't write more than 350 words at one go.
Me: I want to be a prophet.
YZA: Now we're talking, my bipolar friend.