You think you have your life under control. You know what you want to achieve and get your path mapped out. You have a Plan B and a Plan C just in case the inevitable happens. You work your butt out, knowing the way laden ahead is no walk in the park but one paved with shrapnels and gravel. But you persevere. Just when you look at yourself and think you have made a somebody out of yourself and think life cannot be any better, that is when life gives a devious smile and shows you who is boss. By then, you decided that life must be more 'complete'. You bow to societal pressure to be complete for the continuity of progeny. You import your significant other into it, and the other accompanying condiments ensue afterwards. Progressively you feel you have hit a dead-end. Nothing seems to progress at the individual level or as a collective unit. And it becomes gradually more difficult to amend the course or steer the ship. Things that were once in our control are no more. Sadly, you a...
It is all Mimesis