I've started telling myself a few days ago to be more rational about tennis. It's really no use feeling so upset that I am so perplexed as to why tennis is such an interesting sport. Well, there are clear benefits, such as, working out, coming up with strategies and looking for a good angle to get the best shot, but such practical reasons do not really appeal to the emotional senses. Like, so what? It doesn't explain why I am so caught up with it, and feeling so damn pathetic that I led myself into its traps. I kept wanting to just wave it off, and dismiss it as a childish whim to be so involved in a sport, but I can't. I understand why now, when I reflect upon myself on what went wrong, and I can't help feeling so terribly inferior and helplessly miserable. And they sort of complement each other so perfectly that it almost moved me to tears. 

And the worst thing is, instead of falling, I feel like I am making myself swim further away from the shore.  

But it's alright. It's a good thing actually, cos it really got me thinking about all things that have to do with this though half the time I'm drowning myself in barrels of emotional liqueur but nevermind. I believe that as long as things can be framed logically, my thoughts wouldn't have the chance to go all haywire. I just want the whole giddy sensation and putting my arm in the butter dish scenario to end cos it's so, so painful when that happens. Especially after those moments died and come back to haunt me in the bathroom, and before bed. And the stab of comprehending, again, the reality that is already so deeply ingrained, easily brushes away any positive cobwebs.