Lost in Uncertainties

A piece of wet cotton can wipe the dirt in my face but only you can clean my soul. Initial rub seems to be the toughest and dirtiest, and I wonder if the "poor soft thing" can still handle succeeding rubs. You seem to handle me very well despite of my muddy past and oily status. I am so tough and dirty. I need more cotton, I need a push. Actually, I need someone to rub me forever. I seem to confuse you because I am a confused person. I am glad you’re there not to confuse me more. Nobody can serve both masters at once. Am I really a master of my own emotion or a slave of my own soul? I finished cleaning my face. Pass me more cotton, I need to wipe another dirt in my mind.

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