There'll be times when you
come across something that immensely
appeals you, and you decided
overnight to like it. You'd approach
it enthusiastically, with positive
vibes here and there, and you'd
play with it once or twice
to see if it's worth your fragment of
happiness. It eventually does, and
you'd lose yourself in
the feeling of being high because
of it. And you'd be soaring
with it high, so high that
you misuse it. You'd unintentionally
create a mistake, of course,
a mistake which got you scolded
by the society because you've
been losing yourself
in its fake joy. You'd hate it
because it made you miserable,
you'd leave it alone and let
time heal you agonizingly. You'd
come back and grab
that thing you once loved so much,
but you'd realise how much it has
lost its appeal because it didn't
love you back; it betrayed you
and it brought trauma upon you.
You'd have this push-pull
relationship with it; you'd throw it
aside when better things come to
you, and you'd keep it close
with you when you don't have
anything else in your hands.
Everyone's like that,
including you and me,
and I pity the both of us
and the rest of them
for being such damsels in distresses.