Chestnuts, Hopscotch, Lakes & Love

You may be wondering how these three things are all related. Well, the truth is, normally they aren’t.

I used to love chestnuts, they were my favorite snack to eat. When I was in 5th grade, we used to go to the mountains during chestnut season and pick them one at a time. Once we returned back to class, we’d make chestnut jam out of them, and sell them.
I’d eat them one after the other, not realizing, that maybe – just maybe – there might be something wrong with them. Until one day, a classmate screamed and threw his chestnut across the classroom. We all hurried towards him to see what was going on and the teacher picked up the chestnut.
There was not just one worm, but many.
I was so disgusted, I decided never to eat a chestnut again.
Years later, I’m here in Dubai, walking into a park, and I see a chestnut stand. Actually, they were selling popcorn, chestnuts, cotton candy and all sorts of stuff that’ll rot your teeth one day and then you’ll have dentures that you’ll place in the same glass as your husband when you’re old.
So I decided to buy a few chestnuts, remembering how much I used to love them.
Suddenly, I remembered how betrayed I felt back in 5th grade, when I realized there were worms in some of them. It didn’t matter that the roasted chestnuts once looked so delicious. I immediately threw them away and didn’t look back.

I used to play hopscotch as a kid. My friends and I would spend hours playing hopscotch. Hop hop, both feet, hop hop hop, both feet. And again, and again and again. I don’t even remember why it was fun.
The other day, I found a hopscotch drawing on the ground near my house, and remembered all the fun memories I used to have playing hopscotch.
So I started. Hop hop, both feet, hop hop hop, both feet.
It wasn’t at all the same thing. My legs were way too long. I was by myself. The game had no more point.

The other day, on my way to the metro, I was having a nice walk, admiring the view. I noticed that the lake was a golden color. I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.
And then I see two pepsi cans floating down the lake.

HOW are you supposed to trust a human, if you can’t even trust nature?
No matter how beautiful, how delicious, how fun something can be, there’s always something wrong with it. No, I’m not being cynical, but if you think about it, we’re so blinded by the beauty of things that we never see the negative aspects.
Kind of like love. You never see what’s wrong until you see it for yourself.

I believe in peace, I believe in hope. I believe in friendship. I believe in gay rights.
I believe in honesty over loyalty. I believe in conditional trust. I believe in fashion. I believe in happy people. I believe in indie music. I believe in hippies. I believe in travelling. I believe in interracial relationships.
I believe in Beatlesmania. I believe that nobody will ever be able to surpass their success. Their success wasn’t the money they made, or the music they played: it was the way they made people feel.

I believe in true friendships with the opposite sex.
I believe that any girl can get ANY guy they want if they know how to and that seducing somebody is an art, a challenge everyone should know how to conquer.

I don’t believe in punishment and I don’t believe in revenge.

I think you know where I’m getting at. What do these four things have in common?
You can’t trust the contents of chestnuts, you can’t trust having fun while playing hopscotch, you can’t trust the beauty of lakes, and you most definitely cannot trust love. 




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