manifesto

I bite my nails.

Well actually, just the middle finger on my right hand. So in truth, I bite my nail. The deepest it's gotten was when i was little. I think it was only a couple of millimeters in height. It's a pretty nasty habit--I've had people tell me. The best (aside from birth) that nail has been was probably...I can't remember. I look at it now knowing I've already taken a nibble.

I don't know why I do it. I've tried to figure it out. I ask, "Self, why do you bite your nail?" (No answer). "Self, please, tell me why you bite that nail?" (No answer still). I've never gotten a straightforward answer. It's my own nail, and I haven't discovered why I do it or why I haven't stopped. And I've tried, a lot. My attempts allow it to grow back in a long demented state, only to meet the gnashing of my teeth. Sometimes I'll pick at it too with my other nails. It makes me realize how we can't control human emotions. Things happen, nothing is perfect. Sometimes it makes me feel small, such a little thing in this world. But, it also reminds me how much of an impact one small thing can make.

"Self, why don't you stop biting your nail?"
"...because I've got work to do."