A well trodden path appears unfamiliar until you walk it again, and then you begin the experience of the ruts and stones and the flowers and the butterflies. Play with fire and you get burnt but all of us just continue to strike matches over and over again and end up with the similar burns that we once nursed.

But burns can be minor.

And sometimes the satisfaction received from striking that match overrides the pain. Pain is transient, is it not?

Life is bizzare at times. But individual's idiosyncryasis make it even more strange. Yet spicy too.

But why bother to analyse.

What lies in the beauty of life?

special moments spent with special people right?

both romantically and platonically.

And family too.

When the sun sets, what matters?

who matters?

excuse me.