A musing after I scraped my fucking thumb

One does not value the good until the good has been stripped away from him. Case in point, I really wish I still had the strip of skin on my thumb. Every time I brush against something, it fucking hurts. This level of appreciation is unnatural though. Who goes through their days, praising the skin on his thumb? Conversely, this lack of appreciation can contort the most wonderful things one can possess in life. How does one straddle the line between delusion and truth then? Are things as good/bad as one makes it? Perhaps, in the end, a person only has his perspective; to lose is to widen one’s perspective. Enough neckbeard philosopher talk: I miss you.

Published by

alanwrites

I'm writing a novel, but this is for my other projects. Thanks for reading!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s