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I heave and I almost wonder where, when, how and whom…if this world is truly a predetermined from death to conception and my life has been decided then why do I feel so insecure. I wonder of the possibility of us floating and making it up as we go along. Is the fear of messing up and the fearlessness of trying an acquired position for everybody and how many of us die in blasophobia? Human beings are full of complexities and it’s in the opposites that most people live in. I wonder why and how does that work. Where does it end and how long till it begins. How often and when can I rest. What constitutes love? How come it’s so difficult to describe, delineate, replicate, rubricate, enunciate all the forms of love and I wonder how many other cultures does love play hide-and-go-seek. Is love all that constitutes success or is there a percentage? Useless questions that need pondering is an oxymoron.