Picture This

A Black Camaro SS with with racing stripes, ferociously thumping against a stretch of road in the middle of nowhere. The day couldnt be more sunny. Its hot, but the speed brings about a cooling breeze, mixed with the heat coming from under the hood, it gives the driver a bitter sweet sensation.

The playful sensation brings about playful thoughts. Love and Hate are one and the same, both feelings, both can be experienced with intensity. Both reassure the same fact, you are alive, and you feel..

You hate standing in line, its painful, and partially degrading..but the pain of it, the degradation, reassures you that the reason you are standing is important enough for you to go through the pain. Masochism, maybe..

For as far as he can see, its nothing but road, road and a horizon of endless desert and clear blue skies, a couple of gliding birds, hawks maybe even vultures scouring the dichromatic image of blue and yellow. He knows where he is going. He has never been more sure of a destination in his life. The journey cannot be more perilous. Its vast, its desolate and if he stops, theres no where to go.

To top it all off, hes low on fuel. He consumed alot of it on other pointless journeys.

This one isnt pointless.

Its probably the most significant of them all.

He thought the same about all of them.

However,

Never before has he seen such determination from himself,

Never before has he tolerated such perils..he doesnt even flinch,

If the car putters out of gas, he has no problem pushing it the rest of the way.

If he gets too tired, he will abandon it and keep walking, he can get another one when hes there.

If he gets too heavy for his legs to carry, he will lose weight by chopping an unnecessary limb.

He must get there,

Its what he dreamed of acheiving all his life, and nothing of what he dreamed of in the same time.

He knows this is it, because that is what his tongue told him.

He never doubts his senses.

Yes the Bottle is made of glass..

Yes the label reads Heinz

Yes the condiment is red,

But he knows Mustard when he tastes it...

He wants mustard, He loves the bitterness, the playful taste, how bitter and ominous it can be only to releive you with smoothness afterwards.

He can't find mustard anywhere...

He only found it inside a bottle of ketchup.

Ketchup is cool though, everyone thinks Ketchup is the Condiment, he doesnt..

to him its only good on fries..yet he still eats fries with salt and pepper.

everyone thinks hes after ketchup, but is afraid to admit it , to retain coolness and originality.

But beleive it or not

he hates ketchup

and hes persuing mustard disguised as ketchup.

Twas the Man in the Turban that told him of the legendary Ketchup looking Mustard. He hates Turbans, but was intrigued..

He wants Mustard...

He needs Mustard..

He values it to the extent that hed want to keep it from the world, so what better mustard to indulge in, than one that disguises itself as an ordinary condiment...

Ketchup... he traveled the far corners of the world to get this special mustard, he pseudomorted in mexico, congregated with Arms Dealers in Europe, was almost bitten by a rattle snake, was burnt in a car accident, was run over by a runaway smiling japanese car colored like the sky, subjected to carvel like sexual harassment, engaged in unruly celebrations of hate... had an army of dancing overlords chase him in a parking lot..took up an alias, lived in cheap motels, had all his personal belongings thrown out of his window, temporarily deafened, attacked by wild ants in the woods, fallen out of an airplane above the city, crossed three countries in one day, catered to the whims of an Excloosive princess...

He'd go for so much more,

This is nothing next to how much he loves mustard..

Mustard makes him feel like The One,

Mustard makes shit taste like steak..

Mustard soothes him,

Mustard sends him secret messages in the middle of the day

Mustard would stay up all night in preparation to feeding him the next day

Mustard pleases him,

Mustard smothers him..

Mustard helps him inhale both air and smoke

Mustard helps him exhale both air and smoke

It makes him buff up and lose weight

It devours his old T-shirts with Stains, and makes him buy new ones

And this is merely the beginning...

Picture This, Your life is a Burger, We are all born with burgers, the same, the burger in a bun..what we do with our lives is the filling, some add cheese, some add pickles, some add lettuce, some tomatoes, some all , some leave it plain, some a combination.

But all, without exception must have a sauce on top to actually make it an edible burger..

a livable life..