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How would you define something as too personal? You do it by recounting the thing in your head with different people you’re close with as your audience, the rate of cringing with every face should measure how personal it is. Unless you’re an emo attention-seeker who’d do anything for attention including tell everyone about that luminescent Hagrid-worthy wart that grew out of your earlobe into a virtual earring, and no I don’t have a wart, this is an imaginary analogy blown out of proportions to prove a point you insufferable smartass.

Thing is, what if everything about your day became something that would inspire cringing when replayed in front of one face or another? What would be left of your day to post on a blog other than your hygienic routines or feeding sessions. Your entire blog post would comprise of the trip of parsley all the way from your mouth, through the alimentary canal and inevitably all the way back to mother nature through that little hole to which I care to mention is in the same category as most of the people I consider audience in my head. No not you. You really think I’d venture and cuss at my diligent blog followers? Well, yes I would, but seriously it’s  not you this time. Funny enough, most of the people I consider audience in my head are either too old to bother with technology or too young to sit down long enough to read a blog post since they already have a life. So yeh, you’ve just been called life-less. Well, either that or a-hole, take your pick. No really you don’t get to pick, you fall short from being called an a-hole since you don’t get to choose if I imagine you all grinny in my head as I decide whether or not I wanna write about that the comment I heard flying at me from two horny Neanderthals riding a vespa on a fine evening was in fact, to my delight,  “YA 2OSAYARAAAAAAAAA”.  You’re probably reading this because you have nothing else to do, or because you never had anything to do and there’s  nothing interesting going on your FB newsfeed now aren’t you? Moment of truth.

Ok, since I’ve gladly gone through the daily amount of cussing at that Grr in the back of my head, I can move on to what I’m actually blogging about.

How far would you go for someone? Would you set up a blog for them from scratch if Google suddenly decided they wouldn’t let them in? Would you skip a nights sleep waiting on them to come online because you’d promised you’d be there to hear about the bad day they mentioned when they were stuck at that party in a panicky transatlantic text with a time difference of 7 hours ahead at 6 am? Would you share a Twix bar with them? Would you overcome your ego to talk to them after a big fight? Would you do it knowing that they wouldn’t do the same for you? Would you cancel an outing with friends to organize something for them? Would you crack Photoshop for them? Would you give them the last slurp of hot chocolate with chilli that you’re craving because you forgot and took a bite out of the omelette dump you just made that washed away all the chocolate/chilli taste from your mouth? Would you read a 400-page book by a sappy author that you can’t help reading with a sarcastic melancholy tone in your head like that Homer Simpson does to quote Marge in his head for? Would you give up drinking for, even if it were coffee? Would you stop talking to them because you know they do not appreciate your existence in their life? Would watch a two-hour documentary about something they’re passionate about to keep up with what they’re saying, even though you don't give a rats ass how lampreys, being invertebrates themselves, contribute in research of motor movement to enhance the chances of the crippled at walking again? Would you go against what makes you feel comfortable to share something that would make them feel better? Would you get up and make coffee for them if they’re too groggy and have morning appointments that have made them cranky at every existence in the room, including yours?

These things never happen you know. They’re analogies blown out of proportion too, in their own way. By all means, who would give up coffee for someone, I know I won’t. You’d have to offer a better alternative, and to this day there is no other alternative to coffee that holds firm in debate against coffee than marijuana. Until the latter is legal, I’ll stick to the former, for if I can’t be delusional as a 3-year-old on vodka, I’d rather be inert as a fly on red bull.

Now the ultimate question. Take a deep breath, lay back in your chair and answer this. Could you honestly think of someone who’ll do any of this for you? – Besides your mom, very funny.

Neither can I.

That’s right, do you know why? Because they don’t exist. They’re a figment of someone’s imagination, an analogy blown out of proportion for argument’s sake. They’re as real as big foot, as tangible as unicorns and as genuine as…Cadbury chocolate bars bought out of a retail store.

Wake me up when they legalize marijuana.