Myriad of choices,
Flawless yet cruel,
The ones that we make
Why do we fumble?
Why do we weep?
Why do we leap?
The decisions we take,
For unrequited love
Never countenances a second chance,
There is no going back.
This week’s Poetry 101 Rehab’s prompt is : Decisions.
This post is a part of Mara Eastern’s (Now hosted by Andy Townend) Poetry 101 Rehab.
I am immensely proud of the content I get to deliver on this amazing platform called WordPress. It changed my life and has been doing so for the past two years.
I am incredibly grateful for the 70 followers on my blog, thank you all for making this blog possible. I don’t mean to make this sound like a bullshit routine speech, but hey, I really mean it. I would never have the confidence to keep writing and believing that I can do so without the support of your awesome comments and likes.
I remember when I used to think that I could not write or whatever that I wrote was worthless and will never be looked at twice. I used to wallow in self-pity and I convinced myself to delete the blog when I realized that no one read my stuff. I kept creating and deleting blogs on various platforms until I decided to choose WordPress. I love how personal everything feels here and also how everyone is so encouraging, humble and kind. Thank you all, once again.
It is an infuriating show that you cannot avoid, because it is in your face asking you to watch the damned thing. What a pain, right? But here is how I started to watch this show, I had nothing to watch. I know it sounds lame, but hey, I have to watch something or otherwise I might just lose my mind in this big apartment of mine. This show has everything that should not be in a culinary program. The episode time frame is about forty-two minutes and man, should I say it is disappointing as hell when they don’t even delve into the techniques of the cooking the contestants present.
Three things that mainly constitute this T.V show, drama, cussing and trashing-the-whole-freaking-plate! I mean, learn something from MasterChef Australia and stop referring to your show as the “only culinary show in the world” when you got the big guns (Like MasterChef Australia) being the front-runners. I know it is basically under the same banner, but the amount of difference they can put up is staggering. I say learn how to be poise, charming, elegant and good-hearted from Australia’s finest judges – Matt, George and Gary. Those three are like gems that don’t need polishing. I would just give them all a big hug and cry my eyes out when I meet them, they are adorable people.
In the MasterChef U.S, the three judges deviously pit the contestants against one another, juicing out more and more drama as the episodes go by. The contestants dance to the cruel tune of the judges, or should I say ‘The Puppet Masters’?
Gordon Ramsay has a track record for swearing, and honestly, I am so used to his abusive way of speaking to the home-cooks that it does not even bother me anymore. But I am always shocked when I recall that he did work under the legendary Marco Pierre White. It is disturbing to admit that so effortlessly.
Graham Elliot has a neutral way of handling things, there obviously has to be that one guy in the panel who seems unbiased and righteous.
Joe Bastianich is probably the most conniving and manipulative tool. He fuels the contestants’ rage and makes them do or say something that they would regret for the rest of the show (not that they all do). One moment you go like, ‘whoa’, and then the next you are like, ‘WHAT THE **** JUST HAPPENED?’
The contestants are a whole other chapter, man I could go on and on about them all day. They are all so cocky, dominant and obnoxious. There is so much open animosity in the entire show and they can never stand one another at all. Where is the concept of ‘healthy competition’, y’all?
They repetitively swear and wish that their competitors fall flat on their faces. They are a bunch of raging pit bulls who show no mercy or compassion to one another. You almost gasp every time when one of them states an opinion about a fellow contender. But you will eventually get used to it. I watched six seasons of Gossip Girl for “drama” and I do not need one in the form of a cooking show. Grow up, people, the junior MasterChef is way ahead of you lot.
And that is how a world-class culinary show (which they claim to be) turns into the hunger games. No pun intended there.
The centrum of the Simrishamn city was crowded today. I was hoping on getting some me time and not be troubled by the terrible music that filled the arena. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the Swedish singer’s moaning, but I had to get away. The jazz was slowly killing my buzz.
You may think that I am total moron for saying that, but I believe that a writer’s volcano of creativity erupts depending upon the setting and music. Sadly, my taste in music is fickle and I can never decide what I like the most.
I was determined to find the quietest coffee-shop that did not have an adjoining bar. Yes, that is what happens when you decide to drink coffee in Europe. There is always that bar that comes along with the deal. I am not a huge fan of bars or anything remotely related to it.
My legs were begging me to find that perfect spot in this amazingly cozy corner to start my new novel. Maybe God had different plans for me today and I had to cramp myself in the common table with an extremely hot guy one side and a potentially lesbian female on the other. Not that I am against gayness or anything, I am an uncomfortable person and I always love to stay away from people, generally.
I opened my brand new copy of the Maze Runner and smiled at the mere perfection of it. I rummaged through my knapsack to find my pouch and as I yanked the zip open, I found two blue gel pens and a broken pencil. Neither of which could be used to inscribe my name and the date of purchase on the front page. It was a trying day, indeed.