Living with and Loving Crap

I have come to a point in my life where I am already perfectly convinced that even if something is so appealing to the mind and to the senses; even if it is from somebody whom you fear or consider dear; or even if the whole world says it so, it will not change a basic and undeniable fact–

If it is crap, it is crap.

It is a perfectly normal phenomenon in life, sh*tt*ng. Give some. Get some.  Be it unintentional (or not), serious, relentless, underserved, or laughable; the truth remains that crap happens. And it would have been a happy despite being a crappy world until the problem arises when many people, due to some filial (“But she’s my mom!”), friendly (“We’ve been BFF’s for like forever.”), corporate (“Promotion, baby!”), and of course, romantic (“I only did it because of luuurrrvvv”) relations begin to confuse what is supposed to be within the horizon of acceptability from a clear bull.

I too have had my shares of bu**sh*t in this world. Most from people I could care less, some from people I care, and a few from people I thought who actually cared. Of course I also gave my significant dosages of these too and I’m pretty much sure this will be the case until Armageddon.

I have eaten more sh*t than I should all these years… and I know many share the same plight with me. Not that I’m complaining, really. All the crap added up gave much more sense inside my skull on why the world exists as it is. On the contrary, it is surprisingly a good thing: not eating sh*t itself, but what it does to you. You suddenly have a wider perspective of things— Sh*t happens, period; Not all things are sh*t because some are not; and you can always get something good from sh*t, no matter what type it is.

Point is, it ain’t that bad.

And right now, I am in a middle of a predicament—a serious crap involving somebody whom I can almost consider as a best friend. Had conditions been different, I would have easily eaten another boatload of crap in the name of reconciliation but it just so happens that I am, at this juncture, is unable to take any sh*t anymore no matter how you shove it down my throat. For quite some time I was searching for the word that would embody how I feel about it as of the moment and how will I deal with it until it is over. Ah, yes. ENOUGH.

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