Whiskey Lullaby

"Next round's on me, guys" Jared said, already heading towards the bar counter.
"Damn right it is, bitch... last round you got us was back in our freshman year" Quipped Sam with a smirk.
"Oh, blow me" Replied Jared irritably.
"Don't mind if I do" said Emily with a sly wink to a chorus of rowdy hoots and catcalls...

It was going to be a good summer.

After weeks of all-nighters and a strict Ramen noodles and Redbull diet, finals week was over and he was finally looking at a full 3 months of non-stop partying and gaming without a constant feeling of guilt because he wasn't studying for an exam or writing a paper for a course... and to kick it off, Jared and his friends had decided to get some drinks at their usual bar. Curiously enough, although their original plan was to get completely hammered and wake up with vicious hangovers and no memory of the night before, when they'd reached the bar they realized that they were far too tired for hard liquor and instead decided on having a few beers and turning in early. They had the whole summer, after all... there was no rush.

It being a Tuesday evening, the bar was almost empty. As far as he could see, there were only two men at the pool table; a kissy couple who seemed to be transitioning from second to third base and a fidgety middle-aged blonde woman who seemed to be nervously waiting for someone but who kept stealing glances at a well-dressed man sitting alone by the bar; whose formal attire made it seem oddly obscene that he should be drinking on a Tuesday night rather than sitting at a negotiating table somewhere, or shouting at a subordinate or poor person.

The bartender was a pretty girl who looked to be in her early 20s. Her wavy brown hair cascaded elegantly in an artful tumble over her collarbone and down almost to her tiny waist, and her black, low-cut tank top emphasized firm, shapely breasts which he couldn't help noticing even in the dim yellow light. He briefly considered flirting with her until he noticed that her green eyes were fixed on the same young man at the bar, almost as if she were trying to catch his eye. As he drew close, she shifted her gaze to him with a forced smile.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

"I'd like 4 Coronas, 2 Blue Moons and a Guinness, please"

"Coming right up!"

As she went to get the beers, he started fumbling for his wallet but he couldn't find it, and after several seconds of vigorously frisking himself he was forced to accept that maybe he'd left it in his jacket pocket back at their table. The handsome young man was looking at him, his eyes twinkling with dry amusement.

"Lost your wallet somewhere?" He asked with a smile. If he'd had to guess his age, Jared would have guessed mid to late 20s.

"I must have left it back at the table" Jared replied with an exasperated shake of his head. "I'll go get it". He was turning back when he heard the man say "don't worry about it, I've got this- hey sweetie, put it on my tab"

He imagined a bartender as pretty as her must hear similar comments all the time, so he expected her to snap back at the man or at the very least give him a cold look... but what he didn't expect was that the girl would blush bright pink and murmur "sure!" while twirling her hair. Damn, that guy was good! All the same, he wasn't about to lose a gallantry fight in front of the girl, so he had to at least try to turn the man down.

"I can't accept this- hang on, I'll get my wallet" He said aloud, but making no move back towards his table.

"Don't worry about it, man. Enjoy!" He said, raising his scotch glass in a toasting gesture.

"I swear I have money, there's no need! I'll run back and get it" Jared said, inwardly hoping he'd insist. Money was tight and free beer was free beer.

"I'll tell you what, have a drink with me and we're even. Fair enough?"

Jared was checking out the bartender again who was still staring at the man and evidently in the midst of a wild 50 shades of grey-esque fantasy. Any man who could do that to a girl that pretty deserved a drinking partner.

"Deal. I'll just go give these beers to the guys and be right back"

He took the beers to their table, and after a quick "be right back", he went back to the man who seemed unusually interested in the wall opposite his face in spite of the bartender's obvious interest in him.

"Dude this girl is into you, you should ask for her number" Jared murmured to the man as he seated himself on the stool next to him.

The man replied "Not interested" with a bored, dismissive yawn.

It figures, Jared thought. Someone like him probably got all the girls he wanted without even trying. Everything about him screamed "rich"; his black suit was visibly expensive and obviously tailored since it seemed to perfectly complement his tall frame and muscular build, and he didn't even want to think how much his golden Rolex must have cost. Even his face had an air of regal nobility about it; from his slicked and side swept black hair to his tightly cropped reddish brown beard which emphasized his square jaw and prominent jawline. His cheekbones were so high they jutted out from directly under his sparkling blue eyes, and his teeth were so white and perfect they made Jared's look like he'd just walked out of a boxing match with Mike Tyson.

"So how come you're here on a Tuesday night? Don't you have work tomorrow or something?" Jared asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

The man gave him a warm smile that didn't quite reach his sad blue eyes. "I'm celebrating! It's the seven year anniversary of my marriage"

"Oh, you're married! I'd have never thought... so your wife is here?"

"No we've always had this tradition where I'd get drunk and go home late after she'd gone to bed"

"I see. Trouble at home, Mr. ...?"

"Ted" Answered the man, extending his hand and curtly shaking Jared's. His grip was firm and business-like.

"Jared"

"Nice to meet you, Jared... and yes, I'm not exactly on great terms with my wife"

"What happened?"

A pained expression flashed across Ted's face for a split second, only to vanish without a trace as it returned to its previous look of bored elegance. He gestured for the bartender to bring him another scotch as he pondered the question, evidently having an inner struggle of some sort.

"Sure you want to hear this?" Asked Ted, his gaze still fixed on the wall in front of him.

Jared was almost sure he did not. He felt like he was intruding on the man's private moment, but Ted clearly needed to talk to someone and it didn't seem right that he should leave him. Besides, he had paid for the beers... Jared was in his debt.

"I'm all ears" Jared replied dutifully.

Ted didn't respond at once. He didn't look at all like he wanted to talk about it either, but after a few awkward seconds had passed he reluctantly muttered "she cheated on me".

The silence stretched on for what seemed like years. Jared knew he had to say something, but how do you console a half-drunk man whose name you'd only learned a few minutes ago? He was just about to make some sympathetic noises when Ted continued in a flat voice:

"I love her. I really do... that's what hurts, Jared. I gave her everything she wanted, everything I had, everything I am... but it wasn't enough for her. I love her, and she cheated on me, and I still love her, and isn't that just pathetic?" His speech was slurred, but he spoke in a matter-of-fact voice, like he'd had sufficient time to process her betrayal. Jared guessed it must have happened quite some time ago.

"How long ago?" Jared asked as Ted emptied another scotch glass in one gulp and asked for another.

"Months, years, decades... who cares? The important part is that it happened... and you know? I used to blame myself. Doesn't that just make you want to punch me in the face? She cheated on me, and the first thing I thought of was that it was somehow my fault. But you know what? It really wasn't. I was right there with her through thick and thin. I remembered all the events and the anniversaries, I spoiled her with gifts and traveled everywhere with her, I wrote songs about her, I nursed her back to health when she got sick, I turned down a great job offer to stay in town because she didn't want to move. Can you believe that? I lost the opportunity of my life for her sake, and the irony is that it turned out that the reason she didn't want to move was because her lover lives here. I ruined my career so she could get to cheat on me some more. How the hell is it my fault?" He finished with a sour laugh.

"Of course it's not your fault... but why are you still with her, then?" Jared asked, involuntarily empathizing with Ted and hating his wife.

Ted grunted and continued as if he hadn't heard anything:

"The next few years were tough. I didn't file for divorce, because I think a small part of me always expected us to make up eventually... but I left town. I took a job abroad and I threw myself into my career, and life was fine for a while... I made some friends, traveled the world and tried to convince myself that my random hook-ups meant that I was over her. Eventually I couldn't take it anymore and I did something I hadn't done in years- I checked her Facebook profile. It was the worst thing I could have done, Jared. She was happy. I was miserable and in all that pain, while she was dating someone else and not thinking about me at all. That was rock bottom for me, you know? I started drinking, neglecting my job... almost got myself fired. I hated myself for not being enough for her. Maybe it really was my fault... maybe I just wasn't good enough."

At that point, Ted must have had at least 5 scotches since they'd started talking... and Jared guessed he must have had a few drinks before. He caught the bartender's eye, inclined his head ever so slightly towards Ted, and then lightly shook it. The meaning was clear; no more drinks for this guy.

"Come on man, don't say that. That girl over there is practically sleeping with you in her head... your wife just didn't know what she had."

"Well she realized it later. When I saw her happy like that, I decided to be happy too. I stopped thinking about her at all. I began enjoying my life, and even started dating again. Life was looking up for me... and that was when she started trying to reach me. It was like a blitzkrieg; social media, phone calls, common friends, you name it. She even called me at work claiming to be a client once. But I was having none of it... My life was finally good again. I was over her. She could grovel after me for years but I was rock-solid... I'd show her what a grave mistake she'd made." He was so bitter, Jared could almost smell it.

"And then what happened?"

That was when a single, solitary tear rolled down Ted's face. He looked away, evidently furious with himself, wiped the tear away with a gracefully fluid motion you could have missed if you'd blinked, and continued with a completely expressionless face as if nothing had happened:

"She tried to get in touch with me for 2 whole years. Would I be a horrible person if I told you I enjoyed that? I enjoyed putting her through that pain. There, I said it. I figured she deserved it. It was my way of exacting petty revenge on her, and I think I was successful for a time. But then something terrible happened... she stopped. For a while, I pretended like I didn't care for the sake of my ego... but as weeks stretched into months, I got a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong... something was terribly wrong. When I checked her social media, her life seemed to have frozen a few months earlier. She didn't answer any of her phone numbers. For some unknown reason, I started panicking. I took the first flight home and came back to town. That was yesterday."

Jared tensed. Ted's story was approaching its climax.

"Turns out my wife had been diagnosed with late-stage cancer. She was trying to reach me for all these years because she wanted to make amends, apologize and tell me she loved me one last time... but I didn't make it in time to see her before she passed away." Ted's voice cracked as he tried to control himself. "I was so fixated on hurting her that I never heard her last words... they were screamed at me by her tearful mother at her funeral procession today, which I had barely arrived here in time for."

It suddenly made sense why Ted was wearing a black suit and drinking on a Tuesday night. Although his face was completely void of expression, tears were streaming freely into his beard now, and he made no move to wipe or hide them as Jared sat there frozen to his seat, with no idea what to say.

"You don't have to say anything, Jared. There's nothing to say. I love her, and she's gone, and we never made up. I never forgave her... never talked to her. I wanted to deny her closure... but you know what's funny? I didn't get any closure either... and now I'll have to live with this for the rest of my life. I know what she did was unforgivable, but why couldn't I have just talked to her? Why couldn't I have just ended things like an adult once and for all?"

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Jared decided to break it.

"OK, Try not to think about that now... what about all the good times? You must have been happy with her at some point, right?"

Surprisingly, Ted's lips curled upwards ever so slightly- the closest he could get to smiling, Jared guessed. "We were. It was like something out of a movie... we were inseparable. She had this thing where she was always getting super excited about things and then changing her mind about them days later -weeks if she's persistent. One day she's a painter, then she's a pianist, then she's really into football, then she's a painter again, you get the gist. I remember one time when she decided to be a cook, and tried to make us dinner. It was the worst thing I'd ever eaten in my life, somehow both under-cooked and burned at the same time- I think it was chicken, but I can't be sure. Anyway, it was only our fourth month as a married couple and I didn't want to hurt her feelings, so I tried to force it down and pretend it was delicious, and she sat there staring at me with her mouth wide open, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing... then she started laughing so hard, she fell out of her chair. Turns out she literally ruined it on purpose to see how far I'd go to pretend to like her cooking. From then on, we agreed that I'd always give her my real opinion on everything she did." Ted gave a snort. "No wonder she slept with someone else, huh?" He laughed, and Jared deemed it safe to nervously chortle along. He was starting to feel relieved that Ted seemed to be in better shape, but one look at his face told him that they were back to square one.

Ted must have read his mind.

"Nice try, Jared... I appreciate the effort, but it would take more than some nostalgia to get me over this one. This is the sort of thing that breaks you for life, there's no happy ending for me... but do me a favor, will you? You can't save me, but you can save yourself... don't make the same mistake. If there's someone you love, hold onto them as hard as you can, and when you can't hold on any longer, for the love of God, END IT or it will end you... as it did me."

Ted took out a wad of hundreds from his pocket, and drunkenly slammed them down on the counter top in front of him... it was at least twenty times more than what he'd owed.

"Thanks again for listening to me. All your drinks are on me tonight... and leave a generous tip for the bartender" Ted got up and staggered towards the door with surprising speed. Jared hurried after him, stumbling over his stool in his haste and crashing to the floor.

"Where are you going, man? You can't be alone like this!" Jared said to Ted's back as he struggled to catch up with him.

"You've done all you can, Jared. I'll be alright" Ted replied without turning around.

"At least let me call you a cab" A sense of dread took hold of him as he quickened his pace to a jog.

"They don't need cabs in hell" Ted said as he pushed himself outside the door, pulling out something from his pocket which had the gleam of metal.

Jared was running now. He had to reach the door. He had to stop him.

A few people outside the bar screamed. There was a gunshot.

He was too late.

They found a note in his pocket:

"It was all my fault"

Talent ≠ Creativity

I've wanted to discuss for a while so I'll jump right to it...

We often mistake talent for creativity, but they are two very different things. There are 3 main factors that determine any artist's success; creativity, talent and hard work... but let's disregard hard work for now because it's not the point of this post... and again, you're going to have to forgive me for the business metaphors I seem to favor more and more as I slide deeper into a career in finance, but bear with me here; a talented person is a person who is able to package their product in an attractive way which appeals to the consumer and makes them "buy" it, regardless of the content... in other words, they are the "Apple" of artists.

Picture an author who can make an international best-seller out of a middle aged housewife's sex dreams (I'm looking at you, Twilight's Stephenie Meyer); or one of the dime-a-dozen "pop-stars" -such as Justin Bieber or Rhianna- who can be reliably counted upon to create hit songs on a regular basis with lyrics a hungover 5 year old could write with their eyes closed and very basic music -if you can even call it that. In such cases, the actual content seems almost irrelevant if it's packaged well enough; Stephenie knew how to write books to appeal to a wide demographic of aging, bored housewives with unfulfilled fantasies, and Bieber's combo of genuine musical talent and boyish good looks won him massive appeal with pubescent teenage girls. However, considering their frankly disproportionate success with such embarrassingly bad content (baby, baby, baby, oh), it's fairly obvious that even though they're talented artists, they are most certainly not creative.

Creativity is completely different; creativity is getting out of bed at 3 in the morning because you just had an amazing idea for a book that you had to write down so you don't forget it come morning; creativity is when you lock yourself at home for days because you have an idea for a song in your head and you physically can't bring yourself to enjoy anything else until you've perfected it; creativity is when you can picture a beautiful scene in your mind's eye and it's all you can do to paint it before it fades away...

But here's the hiccup; talent and creativity don't always overlap. When they do, we get the greats like Jimmi Hendrix, Jimmy Page, Van Gogh, J.R.R Tolkien or Steven Spielberg; in all of these examples, the artist is both creative enough to come up with amazing ideas and talented enough to execute them perfectly and present them to us as clearly as if we could see into their mind. In such cases, humanity is blessed that these individuals had both traits aplenty... but can you imagine what would have happened if genre-defining giants like The Beatles weren't very good at playing their music and couldn't get a record deal? Their art might have never reached us and the world would have been that much darker for it.

That might have been how A Song of Ice and Fire ended up (or Game of Thrones as you might know it), if George Martin hadn't been incredibly lucky.

You see, George Martin had amazing content, but he simply isn't that good a writer. The qualities that make him such a brilliant world builder are also the same qualities that make him a mediocre writer; he can't control his thought process or guide it in a certain direction... he simply allows his mind to wander and take him where it would, which results in very vivid descriptions in his books -usually of food and sex scenes, but I digress- and all the intrigues and subplots we've grown to love so much about the series, but it also makes him lose sight of the over-arching story-line and get completely side-tracked, and left unchecked, this has resulted in what was originally supposed to be a trilogy spiraling out of control into a 3000+ page behemoth of a series that intimidates all but the most invested fans.

The point is that George Martin's mediocre talent almost cost us something as wildly popular as A Song of Ice and Fire... and he's an OK writer. What would have happened if the idea for the series had come to a construction worker of no literary talent whatsoever who just shrugged it off or tried to write it down but simply wasn't good enough a writer to do it?

Here I am finally arriving to my key message; it's truly a tragedy when creativity and talent don't coincide. All the artists on the other side of the Justin Bieber coin must endure constant frustration; the feeling of being constrained and chained down when your mind is soaring through colorful skies and realms of surreal beauty is more painful that you might imagine... like being gagged and tied down (and not the sexy kind), or wearing a strait-jacket every day of your life. You're on a boat in a vast ocean of ideas and possibilities in the midst of the raging storm that is your fury at your own limitations.

I count myself among that unlucky number. What small measure of talent I've been blessed with at writing and creating music is not nearly enough to keep up with my creativity, and it can often feel very suffocating as I try to find some way to express a thought or a feeling... and that is precisely what I wanted to direct your attention to; never confuse talent for creativity. A talented artist can swindle your senses and sell you the artistic equivalent of a fish and custard cream pie and have you asking for seconds; while an insufficiently talented creative person could be bursting at the seams with artistic genius... which you and everyone else in the world would appreciate IF ONLY YOU COULD SEE IT TOO... but sadly you never will, because they're unable to express it.

How many Stairways To Heaven and Comfortably Numbs have we lost? How many would-be Mozarts? The answer is too many.

One of humanity's greatest tragic ironies is an untapped creative mind.

Perks of Being a Single Guy

It's no secret that I've had 24 and a half years of practice at being a single guy, but it's not as easy as it sounds to stay so single for so long... and while it's mostly because of my very high standards, it's really a potent mix of several factors which I shall list below due to popular demand:

Bondok's Potion of Eternal Bachelorism

Ingredients:

- 1 tbl spoon of trust issues
- 1 tbl spoon of commitment issues
- 1 teaspoon of abandonment issues
- 1 tbl spoon of control issues
- 2 tbl spoons of self-hate
- 1 tbl spoon of narcissism
- 1 cup of tendency to jump five steps ahead
- 1 tbl spoon of introversion- not to be confused with shyness or social anxiety or fear of public speaking
- 5 cups of pride
- 2 cups of desire for freedom
- 5 cups of extremely high standards
- 5 tbl spoons of high expectations
- 1 cup of refusal to "settle" for anyone
- 1 dash of anxiety
- 2 tbl spoons of terrible past relationships
- 1 pinch of overthinking
- 2 cups of jealousy
- 3 cups of possessiveness
- 7 cups of unavailability due to career-related limitations such as travel and working hours
- 1 cup of (often dumb) honesty
- 1 giant ego
- 15 cups of hatred of small talk
- 1 gallon of bipolarity

Directions:

Stir in a pot over medium heat for a few years until you can smell the self-pity. If you smell bitterness and desperation, you've gone too far and will likely have to throw it out and order some take-out (unwarranted prostitution joke).

***

Seriously though, being single is not an easy job in your 20s. Not only are you in charge of your own emotional -and sexual- gratification (obvious masturbation joke), but you also need to present a stoic, uncaring yet paradoxically inviting facade to your friends and co-workers, which is not an easy feat when they're all in long-term relationships and looking at you with thinly veiled pity, as if being single were a handicap of some sort. Now let's face it, nobody's single by choice unless they're going through heartbreak or they have some unresolved issues they're struggling with, and excuses such as "I'm working on me for now" and "I'm focusing on my career" are very easy to see through. However, that doesn't mean that single life has to suck.

So, without further ado, here's the silver lining for having a non-existent love life:

1- No need to clean your house. 

This is for all the guys who live alone: you can be as free as you want to unleash your inner Neanderthal: Old underwear and unwashed socks of various degrees of cleanliness all over the place; as well as junk food wrappers; lots of used and discarded plastic silverware; pizza boxes; 3 week old trash; piles of used tissue paper; mounds of unwashed dishes from prehistoric times (on which thrives a complete ecosystem of intelligent life that's a few days from making first contact with you); a 1-cm-thick dust coating on everything; a couch that effectively acts as your wardrobe; a bed whose sheets you haven't changed since you moved in and the unholy, manly stench of testosterone and armpit sweat. Take a whiff of that freedom, boys, and be grateful because you don't have to vacuum/call in an airstrike to get rid of the hazardous waste in your living room in order to prepare it for female company.


2- You can go out with your friends any time you want.

Suddenly feel like you want to spend a guys night out at 9 PM? Call your friends up, put on a T-shirt, and be with them inside one hour, depending on the traffic. No need for approvals; no need to come up with excuses as to why you have time for your friends but no time for your girlfriend, no need to start being a perfect boyfriend a week before the planned guys night out so she'd be in a good mood and not ruin your night with an unnecessary fight... and don't get me started on what happens if she doesn't like or approve of your friends. 

When you're single, it's as simple as setting it up, getting dressed and going out. No complications.

3- You can travel any time you want.

We're adults now, and our free time is very precious currency. If you were to decide tomorrow to take 10 days off and travel anywhere in the world (assuming your boss would allow it), then the only thing you'd need to do is book a flight. No fights over destinations or schedules or company, which is especially important if you're travelling with the aforementioned friends she doesn't like... and if you're trying to organize a trip with your friends without her, you'll be single again faster than your male mind can process it. We all know that planning holidays with friends is already hard enough without having to get signed permission slips from your legal guardian (aka your girlfriend), especially if she's feeling scorned for not being invited to come with you.

4- No need to remember 20 different dates.

Her birthday. Your anniversary. Your first date. Valentine's day. Men aren't programmed to remember all these dates. At best, girls should get to choose ONE annual event for us to remember, and even then we'd only remember it from the reminder we set to ring a week before the date. When you're single, you only care about your own birthday and maybe your mom's. That's it. No other dates to care about; no last minute shopping when you remember an event too late and have to buy any gift immediately before your girlfriend realizes, and no heartbroken looks of disappointment when you forget a seemingly insignificant anniversary like your first labor day together or your first pregnancy scare or your first ritualistic sacrifice.

5- Speaking of; significantly less expenses.

Not to sound cheap, but relationships are expensive. Not only do you have to buy your girlfriend gifts for each of the aforementioned anniversaries (and don't get me started on trying to pick out a suitable gift for a girl), but you will also be expected to frequently take her "some place nice" and obviously pick up the check. Cancelling the annual "girlfriend" budget should give you a significant windfall (sorry for the finance terminology) which you can spend on things you care about like hobbies or vacations. Again, this is not about being cheap- personally I'd love to be in a relationship with a girl I love, who I can spoil and spend my whole paycheck on- but at least there's a tangible silver lining to being single, which you can appreciate the next time you spend a whole night out with your friends for less than $10.


6- No drama.

Perhaps the most significant upside to being single is the reduced drama: no fights because you didn't call or text for a whole 3 hours; no tearful phone calls because you liked that girl's photo on Facebook; and no "Complete Bitch" syndrome when she's having her time of the month. More importantly, it often feels like men and women speak completely different languages, and trying to phrase a sentence to minimize the subtext as much as possible so your girlfriend wouldn't hear something completely different from what you meant to say is like trying to clear a minefield while running away from an angry bear or casting a 12th grade incantation in Latin to summon an elemental spirit from the 7th dimension while juggling on a unicycle on the edge of the Grand Canyon; it's impossible to do and we're very bad at it. No matter how carefully we phrase the sentence, it will almost always rub her up the wrong way and unnecessary drama will follow. On the other hand when you're single there's no need for such advanced diplomacy, and your guy friends almost certainly won't read too much into the obscenities you scream at them as you beat them at FIFA.

7- No emotional vulnerability.

This one's going to sound a tad cheesy, but it's a big deal even though most guys won't admit it; when we love someone, we're a lot more vulnerable than they realize. We often pretend to not care or try to appear unavailable, but that's usually a defense mechanism in order to hide how vulnerable we really are to the one person who can break us if they wanted to. I'm not speaking about the douchebags who actually are unavailable and don't care about their girlfriends; I'm speaking for the genuine, honest-to-God nice guys who actually are in love; it scares us that we care so much and it often feels like our lives would come to a complete standstill if our significant others left us, so some of us like to pretend to be distant and uncaring so as not to be taken for granted or hurt... which is sadly appropriate since girls almost always do this when they know how we really feel. Additionally, if you happen to be the jealous type like me (with a generous helping of trust issues), every day can be a fresh hell for you if your partner doesn't make a constant, active effort to lay your mind to rest.

When you're single, however, you're solid as a rock. No one can get under your skin, and no one can manipulate or take advantage of your feelings. No feelings, no problem.

8- You can focus on your hobbies.

There's no way to say this without sounding like a complete douchebag, but let's use me as an example and try to be objective about it; my being single for such a long time is arguably the main reason why I have so many hobbies that I enjoy, which I wouldn't have explored if all my time had been spent pursuing relationships; I write, I read, I play the guitar, I cook, I travel, I go to the gym, I religiously game on my PS4 and I watch TV series. Of all the activities I listed, only watching TV is a 2-person activity I could have done with my girlfriend- and maybe cooking and gaming if she's especially cool. What that essentially means is that I would have had to skip a lot of hobbies that mean a lot to me -which are now an integral part of my personality and my "personal brand"- in order to make a relationship work, because as previously established, I'm an adult and have very limited free time.

So the next time you find yourself enjoying a quiet night at home with your copy of Battlefield 1 without feeling guilty, give a sad salute to all the poor souls stuck with their girlfriends "someplace nice" on Valentine's day... and try not to think about them getting laid later.


9- You can be the "you" you want to be.

Girls often have strong opinions on your appearance, style and facial hair... because let's face it, the more sophisticated, successful and well-groomed you are, the better a status symbol you are for her. Enter the completely illogical sparring over your haircut, beard, that shirt she doesn't like, etc. She has a perfect mental image of you in her mind and she wants you to constantly live up to it so she can proudly introduce you to the world as her boyfriend, and that can be awfully limiting for a guy, and it can force you to adapt to styles you don't like... it might also win you a snarky comment or two from her or even an actual fight if you decide to go against the established dos and don'ts.

When you're single, on the other hand, you're your own man. You can cultivate whatever persona you want for yourself without any external influences; maybe you're the guy who only wears shirts and constantly dresses like he's going for an interview; or the guy in sweatpants and a T-shirt who looks like he doesn't own any other clothes; or the beefcake in a tank top and ripped jeans. Maybe you favor a full beard today, tomorrow a goatee, a clean shave the day after that. Maybe you shave your head for the hell of it.

The point is that your look is an important part of your first impression and your whole personality... and don't get me wrong, I'm not condoning terrible fashion, but I'm saying that you should give yourself some space to choose what look you want for yourself... and even if you decide you want to look like a homeless guy, being single gives you that freedom... so enjoy perfecting your unique style without getting anybody's intrusive opinion.


10- No talking on the phone.

For all the girls reading this, know this for a fact: GUYS HATE TALKING ON THE PHONE. The fact that your boyfriend talks to you for hours every day just means that he loves you so much that he's going against his very instinct. We prefer to either text or meet in person; the longest acceptable phone call duration for a guy ranges between 1 and 5 minutes, and mindless small-talk for hours is our idea of torture.

So, if you're a single guy lounging on your couch without the need to pay attention to hours of inconsequential, unnecessary details you're expected to be excited about and to which you're supposed to prepare eager follow-up questions, I want you to relish the peace of mind and remember that you're blessed.


To sum up, speaking from personal experience, being single has given me the time to develop my hobbies, make risky high-yield career moves, spend a lot of time with people whose company I enjoy, and cultivate a persona and style that suit me, and I think that's an important part of every adult's early life character development- heck, it's the whole point of being in your 20s. Again, let me emphasize that this blog post isn't an argument that you should stay single forever: I know I wouldn't care about anything on this list if I met someone who I feel deserves my time and affection... but my point is that there's no reason not to enjoy the perks while they last.

And that's all, gents. I hope you're feeling better about your "single" relationship status now... and if you should feel like reading this blog post after a future break-up to remind yourself that you don't need her and that you a strong independent man who don't need no woman, give a mental salute to the author; a fellow single guy who knows how bad it can get sometimes... but who also recognizes how liberating it is.

Why I Dismiss All WWIII Talk and You Should Too

I have taken a vow years ago to not discuss politics or bring any negative energy to my Facebook timeline, but allow me to take a break from this vow just this once and be serious for a moment.

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Brexit? Brace for WWIII.
Donald Trump won the US Presidency? Brace for WWIII.
Turkish air force shot down Russian bomber? WWIII has begun!
I stubbed my toe? Must be WWIII!

These are the sort of posts we all expect to see on social media the minute something of any political significance happens anywhere in the world... and while I'm not discounting the seriousness of any of these events -especially the stubbed toe- my argument is that we shouldn't buy into all the doomsday talk that inevitably follows. I write this of course because of the recent assassination of the Russian ambassador in Turkey, which has many historically uninformed people in my social circles drawing parallels to the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand which kick-started WWI... much like they drew parallels between Putin's invasion of Crimea and Hitler's invasion of Poland, and between Russia's alleged cyber-attack on the US Democratic National Committee and the Cuban missile crisis.

Let me first address this case specifically; while the assassination of the Russian ambassador is no doubt tragic, it will not start WWIII. The reason? Turkey and Russia have been reconciling over the past few months after Turkey shot down a Russian jet in November 2015, and it is in both of their best interests to quickly manage this crisis, as evidenced by the fact that the Russian and Turkish presidents have both publicly announced that this attack was meant to harm Turkish-Russian relations and that they would not allow this to derail the Syria talks planned for today. Russia and Turkey are both regionally isolated, and both stand to lose from a prolonged Syrian civil war because of the increased risk of Islamic insurgency. Additionally, a Russian economy ravaged by US and EU sanctions cannot afford to lose a trading partner as important as Turkey, and Turkey cannot afford to lose an export market as big as Russia as well as a valuable source of tourism income... and most importantly, Turkey does not want a war with nuclear-armed Russia, just as Russia does not want a war with NATO-member Turkey.

What I wrote above is my personal analysis, which you can feel free to agree or disagree with. I'm not writing this post to discuss Turkey-Russia relations, however. This is a job best left for the experts, which I do not claim to be... so let me take a step back and speak more generally. Here are my top reasons to dismiss any talk of WWIII as media hype:


1- No one wants WWIII.

Let's start with the obvious one; no one in the world- not even the most depraved, egocentric lunatic wants to start a world war. Let's analyze the previous world wars; in both cases, international trade was relatively limited and international diplomacy was in its infancy. While WWI was hardly the first global conflict (read up on the Napoleonic wars, for example), it was completely unprecedented in terms of scale of destruction and casualties due to the development of new, previously untested war-fighting methods such as machine guns, chemical warfare, biplanes, TNT and even the first tanks. Since all of these technologies were still new and unused, humanity had not yet realized that this war would evolve into something else entirely; a war so horrific that it was nicknamed "The War to End All Wars" -ironically, as it turned out. Many historians believe that WWII is a direct continuation of WWI, since Hitler's rise to power can be directly linked to the discontent the German public felt towards the treaty of Versaille, where Germany was obligated to pay reparations due to its role in the war, which they felt was unfair.

The point being that WWI, and by extension WWII, were the products of humanity's ignorance of the cost of war after the development of new, significantly more destructive forms of warfare... and even though cyber, drone and information warfare are also new concepts that world leaders and strategists the world over are still grappling with, humanity today is well aware of the cost of global conflict. If the world powers had known what WWI would evolve into, they most definitely would have contained the crisis and attempted to resolve it diplomatically... and if nuclear weapons had existed at the time, a war would have been completely out of the question.


2- WWIII would kill literally everyone -and everything- on the planet.

WWIII, if it ever happens, would be a nuclear war. Considering that the number of nuclear warheads possessed by the United States and Russia (which will both most certainly be involved in a third world war) number in the tens of thousands, they have enough destructive potential to completely annihilate all life on the planet... and that's not mentioning the nuclear weapons possessed by China, India, Pakistan, UK, France, Israel and North Korea... and it's not just about radioactive poisoning, in case you think living in remote or nonstrategic areas would protect you- it wouldn't take more than a few nuclear mushroom clouds to completely destroy the Ozone layer and kick up enough dirt to completely envelop our planet's atmosphere, blocking out the sun... which as you might be aware is how most historians believe the dinosaurs went extinct. Apart from the nuclear fallout, all plant life would die due to the lack of sunlight and the intense cold of the nuclear winter, followed by the animals that feed on them, triggering a mass extinction. Even apart from that, assuming humanity is somehow still able to grow food without sunlight, the disruption in global shipping and trade would likely result in widespread famine in areas that can't grow their own food.

In short, every politician in the world knows that the minute the first nuke is fired, humanity is doomed and we're all dead. No politician would end the world for the sake of their own ego, not even Putin or Trump. If Putin wanted a world war, he had a perfectly good opportunity when Turkey shot down his jet last year. Everyone knows what's at stake, and no one wants it.


3- The world is interlinked by global trade and globalization.

Today's world is globalized and heavily reliant on global trade. Starting a world war is just too expensive, as no country can afford to isolate itself and disrupt global shipping. Take the United States and China for example; the size of their mutual trade is THE key driver for the world economy... and even though they could not disagree more on democracy and despite the fact that China's rise could conceivably challenge US hegemony within the next 50 years, both countries are well-aware that they cannot afford to fight each other because it's simply too bad for business. The entire world is interlinked through trade, and this creates very unfavorable conditions for global conflict- luckily for us.


4-  There are clearly defined geopolitical blocs and alliances.

Among the biggest reasons why WWI began was because Europe was a complete mess of conflicting alliances. No one could clearly understand who was on whose side, and that resulted in an element of unpredictability, which caused a chain reaction no one could have foreseen when Archduke Ferdinand was shot. In today's world, however, even though Syria might seem like a similar mess to early 20th century Europe and Trump's rise to power might challenge the existing global order of alliances, the geopolitical blocs are still very clear; NATO forms one -in partnership with the Scandinavian countries, Japan, South Korea, Australia and increasingly, India- and an uneasy Russia/China alliance forms the other, with an alliance of circumstance with North Korea, Pakistan and Iran. In very broad terms, it's easy to predict how a conflict would play out, which makes all involved countries aware of what they'd be getting into... which also makes it possible to establish rules and dialogue to prevent tensions from boiling over.


5- WWIII talk shouldn't be acceptable.

I feel very strongly about this point; WWIII should not be easy to talk about. Perception is reality; if we grow accustomed to thinking that WWIII is even a remote possibility, what happens when one of us one day becomes one of those world leaders who carry the fate of the planet on their shoulders but is not horrified by the prospect of a third world war? WWIII should forever be unspeakable, inconceivable, a prospect too terrifying to even consider or think about. What it shouldn't be is a constant topic of discussion around the office water cooler. Ask your parents what it was like to live in the shadow of the Cold War, constantly worried about the prospect of a nuclear Armageddon... it is most certainly not a state of affairs we want to impose on ourselves today, and it is definitely not something to casually joke about on social media as if it were an insignificant eventuality we would survive.

Understand that WWIII is game over for humanity.

It is not funny, period.


6- Spreading panic.

Being constantly aware of the news is both a blessing and a curse for our generation. During the Cold War, our parents could simply avoid the news if they wanted to; but today, the internet keeps us up to date with all the tragedies in the world, and it's completely unavoidable unless you turn off your phone and avoid the internet entirely. When you share a bit of news and caption it "WWIII is here" or something along these lines, odds are that when someone reads this, at best it would ruin their day and at worst it would make them panic. I speak from experience; I'm no stranger to panic attacks -complete with cold sweats and hyperventilation- for various reasons I'm not planning to get into, but I can relate to the feeling of hopelessness so severe that it's all you can do to stay in bed and do nothing because ultimately nothing matters if your world seems to be ending anyways.

Long story short, even if you're panicking, there's no reason to spread the panic and scare others. Try to find a sensible, level headed person and have them calm you down and logically convince you that it's not as bad as you think. Get off the internet and read a book or play a game. Go for a jog. Sleep. Scream into a pillow if you have to. Just be aware that spreading doomsday panic is incredibly selfish... I personally make it a point to unfollow people who do it because I don't need this kind of negativity in my life. Have some compassion... Life is dark and depressing enough without your help, and everyone can read the news for themselves; your doomsday caption isn't doing anybody any favors.

In short, if you're pessimistic or panicky, suck it up and keep it to yourself.


7- Media, media, media.

Last but not least, the media. We sometimes fail to remember that media is run like a business; and most news agencies often have political affiliations and agendas depending on who's funding them (Aljazeera promotes Qatar's views, Alarabiya promotes Saudi Arabia's views, Fox News is Republican, etc.). In other words, we should always take whatever news they share with a grain of salt... and these are the reputable news agencies, no less. What would you expect from tabloids and less reputable news agencies? Such publications rely on having catchy titles to get internet traffic, which is how they make money... and they are not above using doomsday captions and hyping up every insignificant story to epic proportions. It is our duty, therefore, as educated and intelligent people to know how to filter out the actual news from the click-bait, and to always get our news from as many credible news agencies as possible in order to get the real news and not whatever politicized or hyped up version each individual news agency might be advocating for.

These are the top reasons why I don't think we should be discussing WWIII at all. In fact, humanity faces much more pressing dangers that we should be worrying about, such as global warming and A.I development (which Stephen Hawking has warned could bring about human extinction). Now, I'm not saying that WWIII is impossible, there is always the risk of brinkmanship and miscalculations or mistakes, but it's unlikely and odds are it will never happen. WWIII hype is just that; hype. Don't fall for it... in fact, actively fight it if you can. Refuse to participate in such conversations and question the credibility of any publication discussing it (since they would almost definitely be Tabloids such as the Daily Mail or Express.co.uk), and develop a healthy sense of cynicism... or you would essentially live your whole life too terrified to step out of your reinforced bunker. If people had this same attitude during the Cold War, everyone would have barricaded themselves at home in the 1950s and waited for the world to end... And they'd still be waiting today, and hopefully still will be for hundreds of years.

And at the end of the day, even in the statistically improbable and highly unlikely event of a nuclear holocaust, it would more likely than not be quick and painless. I can think of worse ways to go... Give me a mushroom cloud over cancer, any day.

I leave you now with Adele's immortal words:

Let the sky fall,

When it crumbles...

We will stand tall,

And face it all together.

Open Letter To "The One"

Cheesy level 900000+; you have been warned

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Dear *female name*,


I'm very sorry.

I'm sorry I haven't already written you a dozen cheesy poems and enough blogposts to get myself unfollowed by half my friends on Facebook and removed and blocked by the other half.

I'm sorry we aren't already arguing about what we'll do next weekend even though we both know that we'll probably end up on the couch, binge-watching TV series and consuming enough junk food to kill a dragon even though we were supposed to finally work out together.

I'm sorry I'm not already trying to write you a song for your birthday and failing miserably because I don't have a private place to practice the tune on my guitar where you can't hear it.

I'm sorry I haven't yet made you hate guitars and rock music in general because of my mad guitar-practicing skills.

I'm sorry I'm not already teasing you about your bed head in the morning and getting my ass kicked for it.

I'm sorry you aren't already deeply confused by my instant mood swings and making jokes that I'm more PMS-ey than you are.

I'm sorry I'm old fashioned and that my almost extinct idea of chivalry will likely piss off the feminist in you fairly regularly.

I'm sorry my cooking is going to taste so much better than yours... No offense.

I'm sorry I haven't met you much, much earlier in my life.

I'm sorry I've been single for so long that not only have I forgotten how to be with someone, but I've also come to view my independence as an integral part of my personality and I don't know how you're supposed to put up with that.

I'm sorry you'll have to put up with a list of issues so massive that I've stopped counting them.

I'm sorry for being so broken that it will probably take you years to glue back the pieces into a half-decent human being... If you ever manage to get past my walls.

I'm sorry my life choices and career have made it so hard for us to meet and form a connection because I'm constantly moving around and we both know that a long distance relationship would be very hard on both of us.

I'm sorry because every time I try to imagine what you look like, your face is still hazy and pixelated in my mind.

I'm sorry because every time I travel somewhere new or do something exciting, I feel guilty because you're not with me... even though you don't exist for all I know.

I'm sorry I couldn't address the letter to you by name because I still don't know who you are. For all I know, we might meet in 2, 5, 10 or even 20 years... but the waiting doesn't scare me. You know what does? Wondering if we've already met but haven't realized that we're meant for each other... or worse, wondering if my massive treasure chest of issues and unreasonably high standards have already pushed you away.

Mostly I'm sorry because I'm acutely aware of how incomplete my life is without you... even though I know you'll come with more than your fair share of drama and we'll have lots of fights (or else you wouldn't be my soulmate), I also know that we'll always make it work because you're a hopeless romantic too, and you know what it means to love unconditionally.

And you know what? There is one thing I'm not sorry for... even though I've met dozens of attractive girls in my life who have amazing personalities, I'm glad I didn't settle for anyone else... rather than settle for any relationship for its own sake, I always chose to wait for you... and I hope this makes up for all the crimes above.

It shames me to admit that my faith in your existence is severely shaken at times, especially in the face of the overwhelming skepticism of all my friends (and even myself), but I will never give up... for what is there to live for, without hope?

So whoever and wherever you are, I want you to know that I'm right here... and I am not going anywhere. Take all the time you need, but be prepared... because when we do finally get together, I'm not letting go of you so easily.

Sincerely,
Mahmoud Bondok

Confessions of a Handsome Man

It might not look like it, but Jean hadn't always had it so easy.

Let me explain.

Ever since he was a child, people would treat Jean differently. As a toddler, he was always the star of any social gathering, even if there were other, more playful children around. Later on in his life when he started going to school, if he ever forgot to do his homework, his teachers always seemed to accept his excuses, and even hug him or fondly ruffle his hair. Somehow he always found himself in the front row in school pictures. The special attention his teachers gave him always kept him motivated and eager to learn and develop himself, which gave him an unfair advantage over his classmates... coupled with the attention his parents gave him as their first-born and eldest son, it also helped make him entitled and gave him unrealistic expectations in life.

Not that he knew any of that, of course. All he knew was that he was always his teachers' favourite for some reason he didn't understand, and for better or worse, it shaped his personality growing up. The constant positive feedback made him pursue hobbies he was interested in and develop his personality rather than just play videogames and football- and in the latter years of middle school when puberty hit- talk about girls.

However, always being singled out also put him under the spotlight, and all kinds of bad things happen to school children under the spotlight. You see, the extra attention he received also won him the unwanted attention of the neglected kids in class... You know the ones I mean; the "cool" kids who sit in the back and take pride in their trouble-making behaviour and unkempt appearance. It would be unfair to blame it completely on them; Jean would have likely been aggressive as well towards that one kid who got most of the attention in class.

Regardless, being bullied for the best part of his childhood kept him grounded and down to earth. It developed his sense of humour and taught him to use it as a defence mechanism. If the other kids wanted to make fun of him, he would damn well do it himself to take the sting off... their jokes wouldn't be funny if he made them first, and he figured it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to be the funny kid instead of the class punching bag.

Long story short, on one hand he always received praise and encouragement and assurances that he had the potential to be anything he wanted in life, but on the other hand being constantly on the defensive gave him thick skin and taught him to armor himself in humor. It would be a long time until he realised he didn't have to do that anymore, and that wouldn't be until highschool; where he realised self-confidence was a much sturdier choice of armor.

When Jean went to highschool, he came to a startling realisation: people seemed to actually enjoy his company now! Life wasn't a constant battle for survival anymore, where only the laws of the jungle applied. He didn't have to conform to the other kids' idea of "cool" anymore... he could actually practice his hobbies and do whatever he enjoyed, with people who genuinely enjoyed spending time with him.

With that came another realisation; he was getting some unprecedented attention from girls. Being an awkward teenager who hadn't really grown into himself, he didn't quite understand the hints girls were giving him at first. Sometimes they would ask him lame questions just as an excuse to talk to him, but being so fresh from the daily torment that was middle school, he was always suspicious of any such attempts and would deflect them without a second thought... He'd had at least 6 years of practice, after all.

But still they kept coming... and as any pubescent teenager is wont to do, he was starting to notice girls too, but he couldn't understand why they were giving him that seemingly unwarranted attention... He was sure he had nothing to offer them since he was just that awkward kid with a bad posture and dorky glasses. Too often, he would catch a girl stealing looks at him, and by force of habit he would turn around and look behind him to see who she was really checking out. When it turned out to be him, he'd turn back around to find her giggling with her friends.

Until one day he went home after school and stared at himself in a mirror. He didn't get it; he looked exactly the same as he always had, and the blonde peach fuzz on his upper lip sure as hell wasn't doing him any favors. He started pondering the unthinkable; could it be that he was actually... attractive? His every instinct warned him that it was a trap. The class nerd-turned-clown can't be attractive, it went against all the laws of teenage social structure. He took off his glasses, smoothed his hair back, stood a little straighter. Could he play the part? But what if one of the kids called him out on it? It would be middle school all over again and he'd spend months trying to correct his image. Could he really afford that now that he was finally starting to have a life and a personality and friends of his own?

He decided to take the risk and be confident for a day, and his life changed forever.

It was an incredible feeling, being on the other side. He was suddenly "the guy". Again, you know who I mean... that one guy every other guy either picks a fight with or tries to befriend. And girls? He would sometimes find himself hanging out with groups of 5 girls who laughed at his lame jokes and twirled their hair around while giving him moon eyes and batting their eyelashes.

In fact, eventually it even got to the point where he would wish he was unattractive so that girls would be more interested in who he was and what he had to say rather than what he looked like. Also, sometimes people got very wrong first impressions of him; always making the uninformed assumption that he was just another unintelligent, arrogant "douche" who didn't have any skills in life because he didn't really need them... and other times they would be too intimidated to talk to him, not knowing how approachable he actually was.

At any rate, from then on -through college and his later life- it was smooth sailing. The confidence he'd had to fake in the beginning now came to him naturally. Wherever he was, he was always acutely aware of at least one or two girls trying to catch his eye. There was never one point in his life when a girl wasn't trying to be with him... and if he wanted a girl, he generally didn't have to try hard. If he wanted a favour from a friend or even an acquaintance, all he had to do was ask. If he wanted a job, he was automatically on the short list; since he soon found out that all good looking people needed were a smile, self-confidence and eye-contact, and people would generally just give them what they wanted. He would even pass through passport control at airports without being hassled too much, even as people he travelled with got interviewed for hours. It was like being a celebrity.

It was very difficult to resist abusing this effect he had on people but he always stayed true to his roots. He never forgot the awkward teen he used to be, and that kept him from being an arrogant, manipulative person who toyed with people's emotions. Having been on the receiving end of emotional abuse for most of his young life, he vowed to never be the kind of person who would inflict it upon someone else.

And the moral of the story? For better or worse, his life would have been radically different if his looks were not a factor. His entire personality was shaped by who he had to be to survive his prepubescent years, and that was a direct result of always being favoured by his teachers at school because they found him "cute".

Only the very specific circumstances of his life kept him from becoming the monster society seemingly wanted to turn him into. For example, if instead of bullying him, his classmates had worshiped every word he said, he would have grown up to be a self-assured narcissist with a God complex who got ahead in life only by manipulating other people and might have likely even been a bully himself.

It's an unfair world... because if on the other hand his teachers had divided their attention equally amongst everyone in his classroom and actually tried to make everyone feel supported and encouraged, Jean wouldn't have had to live through his rough early childhood and work so hard to grow up to be a well-adjusted adult, and his classmates would likely have had much fonder memories of primary and middle school.

Jean turned out to be a good person, but it could have too easily gone the other way. In an ideal world, he shouldn't have been treated differently for any reason, be it appearance or social class or religion or race or riches, but that is the harsh reality of the world we live in. All we can do is make a conscious effort to treat everyone as we would want to be treated... and hopefully enjoy the good karma.

الأسد

"ماذا لو؟"

   سؤال وجودي قصير قد يبدو بسيطا، ولكنه كفيل وحده بـأن يدفع الرجل إلى حافة الهاوية حيث لا مفر ولا منقذ.

كم من رجال ظنوا انفسهم حكماء حتى سقطوا وتحطمت آمالهم وكبريائهم على صخور الواقع الأليم الذي لا يرحم...؟ لماذا اذا نصر كل الاصرار على نفس المصير بالرغم مما نراه بأم أعيننا؟ هل اعتدنا الألم لهذه الدرجة حتى صرنا نبحث عنه بأنفسنا؟ فهو ادمان اذا... يدمر حياتنا ويشغل تفكيرنا ويقتلنا بطيئا بينما نتلذذ بالنشوة قصيرة الامد، غير مدركين تأثيره على الاهل والاحباب.. 

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تمر الايام ويظن صديقنا نفسه سعيدا... بالطبع، و لما لا؟ فقد فهم الدنيا أخيرًا... يعيش حياته مابين عمله واهله واصدقاؤه، لا ينقصه شيء... على حد علمه على الاقل. لما اذا يشعر بنقص شديد لا يعوض؟ بات السؤال واضحا، والاجابة أوضح بعد... 

حيث لم يكن في حسبانه ما حدث على الاطلاق... فقد الف حياة العذوبيه واعتاد اسوار قلعته وتحصيناتها، حيث مكث معظم سنين عمره مثل الأسد في عرينه... مدافع عن استقلاله وحريته، كاشر عن أنيابه لمن تسول لها نفسها بأن تقترب له... كان زئيره مدويا وأنيابه حادة، ولكنها إن دلت على شيء دلت على خوفه الشديد من تمليك نفسه لشخص اخر، يستطيع بـكل بساطة ان يسحقه إذا أراد...

لك ان تتخيل الصدمة اذا عندما وجد أحدا قد تخطى دفاعاته يوما... فهو شيء لا ولم يحدث أبدا... والغريب انه بدلا من أن يزأر، خارت قواه حتى صار وديع مثل القط. كانت كل غرائزه تحذره من ذلك الزائر الغريب، ولكنه ما يلبث ان يحاول الزئير حتى تتحول زمجرته إلى مواء... حتى مخالبه أعلنت عصيانها لأوامره الملحة... فقط وقتها ادرك الأسد انه لم يعد ملك الغابة... فـإنه لم يعد حتى ملك قراره... وبالرغم من ذعره، ايقن الأسد  حقيقة لطالما حاول أن ينساها.. أنه حتما كان سيتمكن أحد منه في يوم من الايام، ولن يكن قادر على الدفاع عن نفسه بالرغم من شراسته... ولكنه أبدا لم يتوقع ان يسلب السيطرة لهذه الدرجة وبهذه السرعة. 

في تلك اللحظة قرر الأسد أن يرضخ، فأي كائن قادر على السيطرة على ملك الغابة يستحق الاحترام والتبجيل... وعندما اخذ ذلك القرار، ادرك ارتياحه الشديد لهذا الدخيل... فـإذا به يتخيل مشاركته في عرينه وطعامه وحياته كلها... بات الأسد الأبي الفخور ذليلا ولكنه لم يبالي، فاذا به سعيدا مغردا مثل الطيور، مليئ بالفرحة والتفاؤل والأمل.. 

ويالسخرية القدر! فبينما هو يحاول التأقلم على الواقع الجديد، بعدما انقلب عالمه رأسا على عقب، فجأة يجد صديقنا نفسه وحيدا مرة أخرى في عرينه! أكان حلما هذا ام حقيقة؟!  ربما كان حلما، فالواقع قبيح كل القبح... لا يمكنه إنتاج شيء بهذا الجمال.

التقط الأسد أنفاسه وعاد إلى جولاته حول عرينه مجددا... فهو لن يسمح لما حدث بان يتكرر أبدا.