Emotions are weird things; they are constantly on my mind. The ones that are in my head the most are the ones in which I can’t quite understand or articulate on. Sometimes the emotion is really short and brief and harsh, and others are just long and deep. I can’t breathe as I still stare at this page, her name is just there clear as day. Ink on a letterhead. My stomach roils, it feels like it is weightless, I’m falling, I’ve been punched in the gut, I’ve been stabbed. My intestines have turned into poorly made gelatin, simply goop.
Pain is not the right way to describe this, awkward does not work. It is not anger, not sadness nor despair. It as if my emotions were all given sentience and then thrown off a building into a monsoon, each struggling to gain control. This is the same emotion I feel when I make eye contact with one whom I have lost, or when I hear their laughter, see their happiness or even when I hear their name mentioned in my presence. How pathetic. What the hell is this sillyhard emotion?
Emotions and feelings fall apart into the strings that define us when we allow them to dissipate from our souls whilst we slumber. The key is to allow the innermost things that we hold dear to fly away and to leave the soft underbelly that is our soul exposed. In the exposed state of soul searching and grappling with emotion-strings and feeling-strings you can become lost in the complexity of that which drives the relationships you have with even the simplest things. I imagine the emotion-strings and feeling-strings of the addicts of cigarettes. Twisted and black swirling throughout the air with a hint of red in the middle like a licorice center. Biting into them and the lungs hiss but the mind rejoices because it has been allowed to feast upon the licorice center, nicotine, which has been released by biting through the black layer.
