On Humanity

I'm taking the morning off from going to the gym, and as it seems right now, church as well. KC needs a morning to sleep in, not that I actually think she will as she's an early riser on the weekends while all but impossible to drag from her bed on any Monday through Friday day of the week. As for me, I'm in need of a morning to start off slow and quiet with no interference from the outside world, though quiet is not always as silent as I would like it to be.

Melancholy could be to blame.

And mostly I blame myself for watching and reading such things that more often than not seem to inspire this mood. Yet it can't be helped when the genre itself appeals so to my own true nature and my thoughts constantly reflect such feelings in that which I say, and that which I try to suppress - oftentimes too much, when I write.

The worry itself seems real.

Too much of anything can dull the lines between the honesty of words, the emotions they hold, and the stories they tell. So the question often dangles between two extremes known as the here, now and tomorrow. The in-between of beginning and end.

Any writer, or in reality really, any person can understand the complexity of emotions. Insomuch as they exist and can at times be within our control as well as out of it. But I cannot imagine which to be worse. A passionate display of emotion or an absolute lacking of any at all.

I suppose there is an argument and an extreme for each, though I am more inclined to side in favor of feeling.

Life after all is a melting pot of emotions. Think back to any given moment in your life and the description is already there of how you felt and how it makes you feel again.

I am not one who hides my emotions well.

When I am angry, I am an erupting volcano spewing lava. When I am happy, I am like a red balloon floating high above the trees. When I am lost, I am a lamb bleating in the field calling to be found. And when I am sad, I am the winter wind. Cold and frozen. Far beyond the warmth I've come to crave.

There are times when you can't help but to feel everything of that which is around you. There are times when nothing will soothe your soul as well as a good cry. A keening howl. For things we cannot say, for things we know we must, there are tears for all occassions and there is no shame to allow them to be shed.