paper cuts.

everyone used to cringe whenever i turned up at dinner or at school with injuries. not those of bruises or sprains. but those of cuts and scrapes.

i'd peel back the bandages and show them the wounds. but tell everyone that they don't hurt. not as bad as they appear to be anyway.

they don't hurt, really. for none of them can compare to paper cuts.

when you slice yourself no thanks to some freak little accident with paper, the pain stays there for way too long for something so small.

and such is most of life.

it doesn't really matter how many good things come our way, because there's always the nagging feeling left behind by the bad ones.

and paper cuts do just that. they heal well. but underneath it all, the pain of the memory still remains each time you stare at that spot.

* do bear with my weak analogies until i find myself in a better mood. perhaps i'd run faster tomorrow, focus better tomorrow, pitch successfully tomorrow. and it could be a better day then, you'll see. if i come out unscathed that is. *