Swirling Emotions ; Unneeded, Unwanted.
This love/hate relationship with my emotions is endless.
For the same reason I envy sociopaths never having to deal with these "feelings".
They may consider differently, but I think we both would agree that you cannot miss something you never had. How freeing it would be, to just not "feel".
My childhood days -as far as I remember at school, demureness gained me somewhat peace in the class. I hated socializing even then and preferred the company of dreams or books. I was never bullied because of my temper, so my days blended together.
Other kids never minded my lack-of-feeling or at least, what I didn't show.
That's kids for you.
In my teen years, I learnt to slip a crack. Show my feelings to only some I choose or trust.
Some admired my strength of control, and some pitied me for having to do so.
They questioned my reason, some would agree, some would not. Opening up is dangerous, as far as I could tell. When you let yourself to be happy, you also let yourself to feel pain.
Fear of breaking drove me to build up my walls to extreme.
It's the one fear I seem to put no limit to. Among the obligated ones.
Being broken once, I feel like I have to keep what little else remains from the same state.
If words acted like objects, there would be scars from where so many have been lashed at. Many of those are forgiven long ago, but you never forget the moment when it touched your heart, especially from the ones you never thought they'd come from.
The unexpected wounds often scars the deepest.
So many times I've been asked,
"What are you feeling? Do you even feel anything at all?"
As if I was a piece of stone merely because I treasured my thoughts and feelings too much to let anyone in. People will always hurt you, and the least I could do is choose which one I'm letting.
Outside of family, preferably, because I have no choice in who I share my blood with.
Over time I prided myself in this quality. It serves as my best filter of people.
If I train myself to relish my solitude, I could put my emotions away in boxes with locks.
After all, they're so destructive in my hands. I don't know what to do with positive emotions, but I can twirl and meld the negative ones into self-destruct bombs.
I am not afraid to face the pain, if the reward proves to be worth it.
Why it doesn't seem to be like that?
Well, because so far, the reward has not been worth the pain.
And that's awfully tiring and draining.
You know what I think?
I think we need more cats.
For the same reason I envy sociopaths never having to deal with these "feelings".
They may consider differently, but I think we both would agree that you cannot miss something you never had. How freeing it would be, to just not "feel".
My childhood days -as far as I remember at school, demureness gained me somewhat peace in the class. I hated socializing even then and preferred the company of dreams or books. I was never bullied because of my temper, so my days blended together.
Other kids never minded my lack-of-feeling or at least, what I didn't show.
That's kids for you.
In my teen years, I learnt to slip a crack. Show my feelings to only some I choose or trust.
Some admired my strength of control, and some pitied me for having to do so.
They questioned my reason, some would agree, some would not. Opening up is dangerous, as far as I could tell. When you let yourself to be happy, you also let yourself to feel pain.
Fear of breaking drove me to build up my walls to extreme.
It's the one fear I seem to put no limit to. Among the obligated ones.
Being broken once, I feel like I have to keep what little else remains from the same state.
If words acted like objects, there would be scars from where so many have been lashed at. Many of those are forgiven long ago, but you never forget the moment when it touched your heart, especially from the ones you never thought they'd come from.
The unexpected wounds often scars the deepest.
So many times I've been asked,
"What are you feeling? Do you even feel anything at all?"
As if I was a piece of stone merely because I treasured my thoughts and feelings too much to let anyone in. People will always hurt you, and the least I could do is choose which one I'm letting.
Outside of family, preferably, because I have no choice in who I share my blood with.
Over time I prided myself in this quality. It serves as my best filter of people.
If I train myself to relish my solitude, I could put my emotions away in boxes with locks.
After all, they're so destructive in my hands. I don't know what to do with positive emotions, but I can twirl and meld the negative ones into self-destruct bombs.
I am not afraid to face the pain, if the reward proves to be worth it.
Why it doesn't seem to be like that?
Well, because so far, the reward has not been worth the pain.
And that's awfully tiring and draining.
You know what I think?
I think we need more cats.
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