Making sense of things in life is what most of us do best, I think. We are brainwashed to have positive thoughts, be submissive of things we can't change, and accept life (sometimes, a whole lot of shit) and everything it offers.
While mid twenties are one of the best years, the best comes with a whole of baggage you don't offer yourself to; independence with hard work, freedom with decision-making risks, assets with liability commitment, and crazy love with compromises.
My friend asked me whether we should marry for love or security. Call me a romantic but being submissive to financial security is a slave to yourself. We fought hard for the freedom and the luxury of options so that we can say yes to what we love, because options are expensive.
We pull through hard times and tell ourselves that tomorrow, next week, next month, next year will be better. Denial and optimism are thin lines of defining how sad and pathetic you are, frankly, come on, be honest. Sometimes, when the city dumps a whole lot of shit on you, you just want to quit.
In life, there are times when things that don't make sense gives comfort. Maybe we are tired of common initiatives and somehow, when someone is crazy enough to join you in the midst of a jungle and say, "Komt wel goed schatje," you know that things are going to fall in place in time.
