The most powerful verb.

May 20, 2011

Okay, what verb that we used today is the most powerful?



Oh, you so stupid!


Choose. What’s your name?


Callie, why?

Because that’s the difference between owning your life and being afraid. Saying ‘I choose’, no matter what.

You mean, like a guy’s got a gun to your head and he’s pulling the trigger and you say ‘I choose to die’?

No, you ain’t choosing to die, but you can choose to die without screaming, right? I mean, you could always choose something.

What, wrong MP movie? Whatever...

Ladies and Gentlemen, last Sunday I chose to give the Arsenal game a miss for the first time in longer than I care to remember, believe it or not, four days later I am yet to even see the goals. And you know what? It does not feel wrong, not in the slightest. There are two ways of approaching a problem situation involving someone/something you love very much, but you are at the end of your tether with: you can either scream your head off in anger, looking ridiculous and probably giving yourself a heart attack in the process, not to mention the twisted satisfaction you give the other side or simply act as the wiser one and walk away to let the other side to think about what they have just done in order to improve. Or not, proving their unworthiness and justifying you sticking two fingers up to it. Besides, as you could read in my previous post, I had a damn good reason not to watch and quite rightly so, because unlike this bunch of impersonators, the bros just don’t let you down.

What can I say? On one hand, you have the dude who has picked you up from the airport, took you for something of a ‘stag do experience’ the same night just because you missed the real one the weekend before and threw THE best wedding party you have been to ever and never let you down in general, on the other hand, you have a bunch of lazy bastards who could get you a double if they could be arsed, but served you a weekend of two Manc clubs celebrating winning the silverware instead. Plus, the latter are just about the only squad of players who were able to dare the elements and snatch the fourth place trophy out of the jaws of the title. Your choice!

Like I said last week, I used to do a lot not to miss a single Arsenal game, what is more, I always thought the first and the last home games of the season were something special, something worth stopping the planet to watch, but this time around I just chose to think differently. One could say this time it was my head thinking rather than the heart and that should ring a few alarm bells in the right circles, as thinking with one’s head usually does not bode well for the intensity of any passionate love affair, does it? Whatever you say, the highly overpaid Team America on our books will have their work cut out this summer, influencing choices of the likes of me and you. I say let’s see what that hype is all about!

One’s life is made of a string of choices, some of them are just of the binary ‘yes/no’  kind, others are a bit more complicated, the choices we make have impact of other people’s life and choices as much as their choices may influence our lives and the choices we make. Hope that makes sense! Come to think of it, the last weekend was a great display of that: some choose to go to the game, some chose to march with WHOAG, some chose to do both, some players chose not to turn up and that resulted in both them and these who did not deserve such treatment being booed off the pitch which may also affect their future choices. And I could just carry on with this ‘choose’ business, you know? Write a few words about the reported thousands of ST holders who are yet to make their decision, or the strength of the myth regarding the size of the ST queue, maybe? Perhaps some other time…

You can tell I am a little bit mad at them, can’t you?

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