I can be young. Gawky. Old. Shy. Romantic. Eccentric. Learned. Foolish.
Or I can be a vicious pit bull with two jaws of severe dental problems.
I can be anyone. I am paid to be efficiently schizophrenic.
I can be Captain Cook on a voyage across the Pacific. I can be an acid rocker tripping on psychedelic life. I can be Sobers playing T20 in Hawaii.
I can be black and white at meetings, slightly turquoise at lunch, and be very colourful on Wednesday mornings.
I can be in the middle of the Sahara, watching sharks ski down snow slopes, chasing long necked hippos, snacking on broccoli burgers and drinking pumpkin champagne.
I can be inventive, innovative or boringly inflective, with a Gothic skew.
I can create anything in my head, and it doesn’t have to respect gravity.
Or consider relative consequences of anything that Einstein theorised.
I can buck rules. I can duck rules. I can rewrite history. I can draw new geography.
I can borrow Spain. I can import Russia. I can buy Neptune. I can sell Pluto.
I can officially sit at home all day and brood over karma. Or hatch dodo eggs.
I can build space rockets. I can trash missiles. I can chomp nuclear bombs. I can burp oxygen.
I can eat anything. I can drink everything. I can get pretty delirious overdosing on cucumbers.
I can do whatever inside my mind. I can lock my gates inside out.
I can be a father, or mother, or son, or daughter, or cousin, or a pet cactus.
I can be a sofa, a couch, or a dining table with three legs and a possible fever.
I can get inside a goat’s stomach. I can talk to a pebble. I can discuss world economics with John Lennon’s poster.
I can fall in love. I can fall out of love. I can float in and out of hate.
I can have 4 mouths, and 17 eyes in every shade of wine.
I can be articulate. I can be respectful. I can be middle class at 2.37 pm.
I can declare wars. I can start revolutions. I can pick up a fight with a grumpy cloud.
I can go ahead in time. I can go back into the past. With anyone for company.
I can be sensible. I can be illogical. I can be commonplace. I can be exotic.
I can be relevant. I can find meaning. I can be original. I can be expertly fake.
I can travel on the back of a bumblebee. I can barbecue a not so friendly barracuda underwater.
I can fly with an eagle, pluck its feathers, and paint it purple before it lands.
And I can also be the owner of the one camel that speaks Dutch.
In fact, I can be who I want to be, go where I want to go, and do what I want to do.
I am only limited by my imagination, civility, and at times by budgets decided by people who also procure milk powder for their offices.
I am in advertising. I am in creative. I am a copywriter. And I am not quitting this business.
Neither should you. Not now. Not ever.
The writer is the co-founder and CCO Bang In The Middle. Views expressed are personal.