Ripples: Nail Fascination

Waves have more high points than low points. Funny how everything travels in waves… Or maybe it’s just inevitable that highs and lows alternate with each other. Is it about balance?

My fascination travels in waves. After I first applied the glossy pink colour on my nails, my hands would remain immobile for hours until they started itching from inside. Impractical, yes, but I get so annoyed when my nail polish has a little chip. For a few days after, I would constantly find my eyes wandering to my nails; I would spread my fingers out under the light and smooth my finger across the glossy coat. Little by little, I could feel my fascination with my nails drain away. Fascination isn’t really something I can control because if I could, I would force myself to stare at my nails for another half an hour. Even surfers have to work with waves; there’s nothing you can really do about it. Gradually, that little imprint on my third nail made when I pressed another nail into wet nail polish didn’t matter so much anymore.

The interest returns when my nails start chipping. It can hardly be called an interest but I suppose hoping that my nail polish will wear off soon counts. Once one finger is normal again, however, the rest seems insignificant. The nail polish is no longer a part of my life.

I know it’s stupid to talk about something as trivial as nail polish but I wonder if it relates to the other things I do in life. If I treat my responsibilities the way I treat my nails, I don’t think I’ll get anywhere in life. Right now, I don’t know which is better: to try to control the waves or to work with them. Even if I figure that out, I have no idea how to translate this metaphor into my actual life.

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