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Games. Lies.

Playing a game is an act requiring patience, understanding, and humor. It may be the thrill of the win, the adrenaline that drives some. It may be the teamwork and camaraderie that some enjoy. Accepting defeat and being a sportsman is not everyone’s piece of cake

Games for the sake of fun and competition are a ‘high’ for the lovers of such activities, deriving gains of aphrodisiacal proportions.

Knowing that you are being played with? Not so much fun.

How naive are we that we know not when we become pawns of bigger pictures. And even more deplorable, when knowingly, we keep mum even after seeing we are a mere dice in some people’s hands.

Why do we make such choices? Either there is no way for you to exit or you just let it slide. Or you don’t have the balls to resist, to call it quits, to confront.

I wonder why it helps to be played. I wonder how we live day after day trudging along wanting or not, getting thrown around in matches one after another.

Don’t have any idea why I do. Except. that I do. Live and play and get played.

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“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again.”