Stupid Things

Stupid things that don't matter twist emotions...twist them like steel hands around a candle, moulding it into waxy mush, with concaving finger indents. Strange things pull your heart down, 'til there's that slight lump in your throat and your limbs are heavy and your head is tired. Weird occurrences you should not care about but they throw your thoughts into turmoil, leaving you grieving what-could-have-been moments, crying over unreal ideals, smiling over forgotten loves.

The most bizarre of all is that when the real things go wrong, you notice. The world falls in, like a castle of cards, tumbling down to the table top, leaving you crushed by their papery bodies. There's a longing and a sense of guilt for ever feeling so bad when things were right, because now things are really wrong: properly wrong. You beg to return to a time when the strange things pulled your heart down, so you can be free to pull it back up, without cards catapulting through the air, and tears flying like daggers from your face.

But, its no use. The stupid things make up my mind and make me tick over, like an impatient clock. And waiting for things to fix themselves while I stand perfectly intact with muscles bulging and breath clear as daylight, is ludicrous. Emotions may be superficial, but the world itself is superficial. The stupid things will break us, like the trojan horse, or Achilles heel. Emotions take our immortality; they are our vulnerability. But this is what makes us human; this is what makes us alive. Without these strange things, to make us happy as if we're birds in flight, and sad like stones in the ocean, what would life be?