Losing it, bit by bit – I wonder if we give ourselves way too much credit. The noteworthy self-praises, obvious aura of superiority and inconceivably smug smiles that beckon fist to face invitingly, are known to bend all current rules of gravity and shoot straight up into our heads. Heck, there is simply no need to collect the prize money of $200 – it would be automatically checked into our grey matter as easily as the inherent lunacies of a mad hatter.
But when the what-ifs come visiting, expectations go flying high and reality comes crashing down, the truth hurts twice as bad. Vulnerably stripped off a broken coat of armour and assuming a pitiful portrait lacking that of poise and grace, trading places and changing faces never seemed as enticing as a piece of the sky served with a big slice of lemon. Perhaps we could whip it into a lemonade and then get on with the parade.
Ultimately, however, it all becomes akin to a wet and wild roller-coaster ride: we have our ups and downs, tops and bottoms, and delicious chocolate cake and tiny petite macarons – to suit our various stages of elation and dejection. The highs may be just as colourful as the lows, appearing in different doses and shades of roses, but it is entirely up to us what and how we want to paint it, really.
We know not what makes us so great, nor what it takes for an ocean not to break.