Gross much

I never knew that I could be so disgusted with someone until I met you.

The thought of you makes my head throb with such immense vigour that it topples my balance and “sweeps me off my feet”.

The sound of your voice brings such great distress that it makes Justin Bieber and Rebecca Black - simultaneously on replay - sound like a heaven's lullaby.

The sight of your repugnant face sends waves of nausea over me, making it impossible not to barf.

The knowledge of your existence compels me to have compassion for the people around you - such deep compassion that would otherwise never have been found.

The revelation of your hypocrisy astounds me with a whole new definition of a Pharisee.

Your volcanic temper never fails to throw me into deep convulsions – although I’m unsure if I’m actually laughing or crying.

The experience of meeting you inspires me tremendously that it makes my fingers itch for the keyboard – to dedicate an entire prose just for you.

Thank you for being my source of inspiration, gross much.

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I never knew that I was given such a vast capacity to love until I met you.

The thought of you brings along countless of ideas as to how I could destroy you, and yet it reminds me of the times when someone had done that to me.

The sound of your voice alarms me of your discomforting presence, and yet alerts me to the opportunities of forgiveness that I can demonstrate.

The sight of your face brings unpleasant flashbacks that I yearn to erase, and yet challenges me to love beyond my capability.

The knowledge of your existence reminds me that you, too, are a creation of God.

The revelation of your hypocrisy overwhelms me with the greatest sense of injustice and yet dares me to overlook it.

Your volcanic temper makes me realise that saying one less word could make everything better.

The experience of meeting you teaches me that it is more commendable to show grace rather than to seek revenge.

Thank you for being my source of inspiration, dear friend.