There is a blood blister on my knuckle, and I can't seem to leave it alone. Fills with blood, then I squeeze it out, then the blood turns to clear plasma and I squeeze that out. Blood blister becomes flat, and in a matter of minutes its risen once again like that thing from out of the swamp. Only my knuckle is not a swamp. However, thus repeats the cycle. Blood bubble under the skin, squeeze it out until it turns clear, squeeze that out until it flattens and wait for it to rise.
For some odd reason this is making me think about life in general. I'm not really certain of the relation exactly, but it seems like we go through the motions of life in order to make it coincide with our views on happiness, only to have to pop that metaphorical blood blister over and over again. Perhaps I'm missing a lesson here... ahh yes. Leave it alone and let it heal. Can we do that in life?
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