It was one of those useless mornings when you jump out of the bed and the first word that comes out of your mouth is shit. Technically it shouldn't be coming out of your mouth, yet it does and you just sit there in that sudden state of shock and oh dear your hair  is migrating to all the continents of your head  and you sit there trying to understand your next move for the day. You run to your hand under the compressed pillow and look for a device that you think  can save your butt from getting late to get the day started. For a second you want to fill your soul with gratitude but from nowhere a train of sweared thoughts makes you want to fall back and just then that first sneeze comes storming  out of your very small nose   and shakes your whole state of being. Its just the start.

This is the story of the sneeze. Its just started, don't expect it to stop. There will always be something or the other that would absolutely want you to slam your head on the stone wall but you can't let it. so what do you do? Just Let it blow you apart. One time, two times , three, four, a million for all i care. The sneezing will stop darling, because its still your nose. So let the sneeze blow you apart , let it throw your senses to the ground and play havoc with your already tortured hair, let it remind you that the smallest things become the sharpest thorns because we forget to remove the thorn before keeping our foot down, let it in the most difficult terms, ruin you , but only for a moment,cause after that you have to get up from that bed. You have got to pull it together, even though the fear of sneezing again makes you continuously cringe your nose and makes you stop in the middle of joy, to question its absence. Soon you'll stop waiting for it to show up and then its just like nothing ever happened because do what you may You have to get on with the day anyway.