The wall of emotions

I wished I could sit down and write eloquently whatever it is that is on my mind. What often happens, though, is a wall of emotions that comes between me and the keyboard. I can exactly pinpoint the location in my body, it’s between my solar plexus going up my throat and from there towards the back of my head where it spreads in the area above my eyes. One could visualise the shape like a copra with it’s tail reaching possibly into the belly and the head right above the eyes. It’s an interesting exercise trying to physically locate one’s feelings.

When thinking about my feelings, the first things coming to mind are associations like sadness, melancholia, crying, frustration, hopelessness, etc. I consciously try to take a step back from my feelings and look at them from the outside and without learned attachments. I try to find a neutral description, like warm or cold, a heaviness or lightness.

The sensation in my chest is a kind of tingling, a source of heavy energy pulsating and radiating around it.  From the chest to the back of my head it’s like a pulsating pipeline, delivering the heavy energy into my brain. The top of my head feels squeezed but also kind of tingling or tickling. I also can hear a high pitched noise and the blood rushing through my body.

There are lots of explanations to why I might feel that way. Sadness because I have wasted so much of my life when I could have focused on achieving worthier goals. Frustrated for not having found a way to make money with the things I’m passionate about forcing me to remain a slave to the corporate system. Upset because I want to express my thoughts but my writing is clumsy and unimaginative. There are stories I want to tell but once they’re on paper it’s like vomit, they disgust me. Being appalled with myself because I’m a hypocrite, wanting to be someone when I’m nothing, thinking I have great ideas when in the end they’re just fluff, nothing new, no revelation,  just regurgitated garbage.

Writing like this is therapeutic. I still experience that erupting volcano of raw unbounded energy reshaping the surface of my being. I don’t try to stop it but let it flow, following it with as much detachment as I can muster. I become an analyst, a scientific observer of what goes on in my body.

A smile surfaces, a moment of joy like the seething glow of lava bubbling up from deep within, followed by heavy fragments, rocks of despair, thrown into the melting pot of dark matter. I smile again, darkness making space for something fresh, like a cool breeze in the summer. Suddenly I see trees, an avenue, the morning wind whispering through the leaves.

I want to cry, let it all come out, the sadness, the happiness, all of it, all linked together, all from the same spring of life, pain in joy, bondage in freedom, hatred in love.

I want to let go, return into my mothers womb and cut it open with my raw teeth, rip it apart with my claws to free myself of all the false inhibitions, conventions and limitations I was born into.  I’m nobodies victim, I’m in charge of my life and I take responsibility. Nobody can make me feel what I don’t want to feel. Nobody has power over me because I won’t let them.

I can laugh again in the midst of deep sighs of sorrow. I have defied the wall of emotions by allowing myself to be foolish, writing about that which tries to stop me.

I claim victory, this time and battle after battle until the war is won.


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