When you get struck by a lightning bolt, the odds and probability's one out of one million, forty-two thousand. That's a pretty high estimation when it comes to getting hit by a natural calamity, let alone a lightning bolt that is pretty much formed by some weather phenomena that would take me long to describe specifically in the most scientific way. Though the estimation is high, and the odds are pretty much low, the very same principle is pretty much applied to us, humans when it comes to being attached to certain individuals, humans of course, and if you're not homosexual or bisexual, the very opposite gender. Well, that being said, a shorter version would be, when you fall head over heels, or in minuscular description, falling in-love in the most pathetic way you'd ever be. Call me "pathetic in-love" because it makes you write things like this. Or when you're feeling like utter shit, you decide to write in a way that is beautiful to me, but you don't give any particular excuse or reasoning to why do you, or should I say, why do I do these things. Simply because you want it. You want it to happen. I'm not sober, to some I might be spitting random murmurs or girbish language. All I can say is, if you get it, and you feel it. Then we're probably in the same boat. After all, to love is not to take whatever as long as you wish, more of like, to give without giving a crap what to receive.