Catch and Release
"Don't worry! There are plenty more fish in the sea."
In the world of "love", I am a fish. I don't know what type of fish, but nevertheless I am a fish. I swim around in my fish pond, swishing my little fishy tail back and forth, oblivious to the outside world, the blurry figures of things much bigger than I outside of my home, my world.
Yes, in the world of "love", I am a fish, and although I don't particularly know what type of fish I may be, I do know the kind. Somehow, in the random gamble of fish genetics, to my poor amphibious dismay, I have been born a 'Catch-and-Release' fish. Yes, unfortunately. I have the pleasure of undergoing the pain of being uplifted out of my home, out of my environment, and tortured and suffocated, all for the pleasure of some asshole of a guy who thinks that fishing is fun, that 'fishing' is a sport, that his 'big stick' enables him to play God!!
Well let me tell you something, Mr. Fisherman, my life is not a Game; it's not fun for me! Minding my own business, admiring the surroundings of my lovely world, when all the sudden something shiny and alluring catches my attention; I follow out of sheer curiosity, out of an attraction much greater than my little fishy brain can conceive, and just when I think I'm about to enjoy a delicious little meal, just when I think I've been lucky and found something Amazing, I feel that fucking hook go right through my lip and I get dragged out of the water gasping for air!
So you admire me for what I am, "Beautiful fish!", take a picture or two of me (while I lie there in your hands gasping in the open air), and then you kiss me and throw me right back where you found me. All in a days work, right boys? All the while you're celebrating the victory of your catch, and I'm sitting there, cursing myself for taking the bate, Yet again! Making the same exact mistake, the same exact way, every time winding up just another triumph and toss back to yet another guy who happened to bate me with something interesting enough to distract me from the truth.
Excuse me life for being ironic, but maybe this fish wouldn't like to be thrown back anymore! Maybe she's getting tired of the endless 'hook' ups, then the inevitable let go, back into the pond where she came from, swimming around with all the other fish, until she gets picked up once again!
I'd like to pretend I'm actually one of those rare fish; the kind people put in spectacular exotic tanks, and take especially good care of, a true treasure, a real Investment... But apparently my track record is proving otherwise:
Am I doomed to be a Catch and Release all my life?
Think about it.
In the world of "love", I am a fish. I don't know what type of fish, but nevertheless I am a fish. I swim around in my fish pond, swishing my little fishy tail back and forth, oblivious to the outside world, the blurry figures of things much bigger than I outside of my home, my world.
Yes, in the world of "love", I am a fish, and although I don't particularly know what type of fish I may be, I do know the kind. Somehow, in the random gamble of fish genetics, to my poor amphibious dismay, I have been born a 'Catch-and-Release' fish. Yes, unfortunately. I have the pleasure of undergoing the pain of being uplifted out of my home, out of my environment, and tortured and suffocated, all for the pleasure of some asshole of a guy who thinks that fishing is fun, that 'fishing' is a sport, that his 'big stick' enables him to play God!!
Well let me tell you something, Mr. Fisherman, my life is not a Game; it's not fun for me! Minding my own business, admiring the surroundings of my lovely world, when all the sudden something shiny and alluring catches my attention; I follow out of sheer curiosity, out of an attraction much greater than my little fishy brain can conceive, and just when I think I'm about to enjoy a delicious little meal, just when I think I've been lucky and found something Amazing, I feel that fucking hook go right through my lip and I get dragged out of the water gasping for air!
So you admire me for what I am, "Beautiful fish!", take a picture or two of me (while I lie there in your hands gasping in the open air), and then you kiss me and throw me right back where you found me. All in a days work, right boys? All the while you're celebrating the victory of your catch, and I'm sitting there, cursing myself for taking the bate, Yet again! Making the same exact mistake, the same exact way, every time winding up just another triumph and toss back to yet another guy who happened to bate me with something interesting enough to distract me from the truth.
Excuse me life for being ironic, but maybe this fish wouldn't like to be thrown back anymore! Maybe she's getting tired of the endless 'hook' ups, then the inevitable let go, back into the pond where she came from, swimming around with all the other fish, until she gets picked up once again!
I'd like to pretend I'm actually one of those rare fish; the kind people put in spectacular exotic tanks, and take especially good care of, a true treasure, a real Investment... But apparently my track record is proving otherwise:
Am I doomed to be a Catch and Release all my life?
Think about it.