There are hundreds of excuses that I could come out with. Excuses that can, and will, make the audience nod their heads as a way of saying that I am making sense of the situation; as a token of appreciation for letting it out – untangling the mysterious nature of making such a reckless yet immature decision. I’m sure some of them have a sense of skepticism in their heart, but it seems inappropriate to even bring it up. Who cares. It’s my show. I’m leading the plot of the story.
But excuses are for the weak. I can be proud for the ability to amuse the audience without any hesitation; freestyle at its best, but who am I kidding? Lying to them is one thing, but lying to myself is a bigger deal. Such a fool, I think of myself.
Time machine is scientifically vague. But if such device ever exist, I’ll probably be the first in line to use it. Going back in time to fix something I broke seems very appealing at the moment. Of all the things I’ve done, I couldn’t think of any other time frame that I would leap to, except that one. That particular time when I was overly possessed by my huge ego. Destroying every good things that could have happen.
What’s stopping me to fix it now? U tell me.