Why is it that I am always tempted by what I can't have?!
I saw it there, in all perfection, round and smooth, with sharp edges that sparkled.. I touched it, knowing that I probably shouldn't, but arguing that a mere touch won't be too bad.. The touch was beautiful, refreshing and even more thrilling because of the hidden knowledge of breaking boundaries.. Rebellion, in a touch..
I smelt it, and I realized then how deprived of air I had been before then.. I closed my eyes, and thought how fulfilling it would be to have it for myself.. How perfect life would be then, how complete my existence would become.. I opened my eyes again, and thought: would it really be perfection, or am I just controlled by the urge to have it, and blinded from all realistic imperfections because of this urge?
I shooed the sound of reason out of my head, and closed my eyes again.. I could feel the ease sweep across my body, starting from my head and all the way to my toes.. I felt free, strong, and driven.. I wanted it, oh so badly.. But deep down I knew, I could never call it my own..
How do I get the strength to walk away of it, and never look back and think of how transformed my life would have become had I taken it when I could have? And how do I hush the voices in my head, that tell me that happiness would have come through it, bliss would have followed, and an eternity of peace would have been summoned to my life?
It isn't mine, that I know.. It is someone else's.. How unfair can life be sometimes! How easy it is to forget the one million things I already have, and think of that one thing that I can't make mine.. And how wise were the Gods when they declared that Thou Shall Not Steal.. Or maybe, how cruel?
Will I ever make it mine? Will I ever see one, similar in shape and depth, owned by no one, and run to it, with all my might, at the right timing to make it my own? Forever mine, forever beautiful, forever complete..
I saw it there, in all perfection, round and smooth, with sharp edges that sparkled.. I touched it, knowing that I probably shouldn't, but arguing that a mere touch won't be too bad.. The touch was beautiful, refreshing and even more thrilling because of the hidden knowledge of breaking boundaries.. Rebellion, in a touch..
I smelt it, and I realized then how deprived of air I had been before then.. I closed my eyes, and thought how fulfilling it would be to have it for myself.. How perfect life would be then, how complete my existence would become.. I opened my eyes again, and thought: would it really be perfection, or am I just controlled by the urge to have it, and blinded from all realistic imperfections because of this urge?
I shooed the sound of reason out of my head, and closed my eyes again.. I could feel the ease sweep across my body, starting from my head and all the way to my toes.. I felt free, strong, and driven.. I wanted it, oh so badly.. But deep down I knew, I could never call it my own..
How do I get the strength to walk away of it, and never look back and think of how transformed my life would have become had I taken it when I could have? And how do I hush the voices in my head, that tell me that happiness would have come through it, bliss would have followed, and an eternity of peace would have been summoned to my life?
It isn't mine, that I know.. It is someone else's.. How unfair can life be sometimes! How easy it is to forget the one million things I already have, and think of that one thing that I can't make mine.. And how wise were the Gods when they declared that Thou Shall Not Steal.. Or maybe, how cruel?
Will I ever make it mine? Will I ever see one, similar in shape and depth, owned by no one, and run to it, with all my might, at the right timing to make it my own? Forever mine, forever beautiful, forever complete..