Why?

Every time I unzip that long bag, taking three pieces of that pretty decent Cartel bow, I always ask myself. Why?

And my hand begins assembling those pieces, until a 68 inch 28 pounds (not much, I know. I’m pretty weak) bow feels comfortable in my hand. Why?

Taking out the stabilizer. Attaching it to the v-bar. Begin attaching other accessories while absent-mindedly thinking, why? Why am I keep doing this?

Don’t I suck at this? Why? Why don’t I just stop, putting all of these things back to that black bag? Then I put the arrows in the quiver, placing the arm guard and slide the fingertab like a ring.

Stepping in the shooting line. Mind goes blank for a while. The next thing I know is one of my arrows had nested on one of the targets. Suddenly I can’t tell the the difference between yellow, red, and blue.

Why? Why can’t I stop doing this? Don’t I hate this? Don’t I have no talents in this?

Then why wouldn’t I stop doing this?

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