The first moment asks me if I can wait 20 minutes.
The next asks me if I can wait half of it - 10 minutes.
The third asks me if I can wait further half of it - 5 minutes.
Those twenty minutes are akin to the biggest bar.
Those ten minutes are akin to the bigger bar.
Those five minutes are akin to the smallest bar.
Imagine your ego that started with the size of the smallest bar.
Imagine next after an accomplishment it assumed the size of the bigger bar.
Imagine next after another accomplishment it assumed the size of the biggest bar.
Mightily mistaken you’d be to let your ego earn a chance to try better the biggest bar.
In the bullfighting backdrop of brave Spain, sounds of stage one can be heard.
The fierce fight, egged on by plentiful people around the Madrid matador can be heard.
The matador observes this bulky bull and attempts to arrange an attack with lances.
Enter stage two the time when the matador makes way for aides who now take stances.
They keep hurting the bull with many a barbed stick and the matador gleefully glances.
Soon shows-up stage three where the matador must meet his match-up with this beaten bull.
Risking his human condition he readies for final move most required to kill it in full.
However, this risk turns out too big for him to pull as the bull renders him dead and dull.
The entire stadium that had come to see the biased brutal blot of this bull…
…now enters a period of quiet lull.
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