The day I got kicked out from my mother’s home, I spent an hour thinking about fulfillment. How much fulfillment does one need everyday to think that life is worth it? Is there a percentage? A tally? A package or premium model?
I borrowed $600 from two male friends. I got a new apartment. I cashed in on my good luck. My mother was right. Such a lucky bastard I am. Thank you, luck.
Thank you mother. Today I learnt never to trust strangers. You are one such stranger.
I hated her as much as I love her.
Which is a lot.
