Catharsis?
I look back at myself from a few months ago, and I see a different person. I was a person who pushed his emotions away because they hurt too much. I gathered and chained them up, and I pushed one on stage to perform when I felt necessary. I even them gave them a script to follow when certain players arrived on stage. I allowed certain obstacles in my life to rewrite the script, and, as a result, certain emotions began to run the stage, leaving others with bit parts or nothing at all.
I pushed my friends away in the form of a witty and unnecessary remark. I thought it was funny. My friends knew they were meant to be nothing more than a joke. Sometimes words are sharper than daggers, and my friends were done with that. They (Harrison in particular) told me I was a dick. I was being too mean for no good reason. Ordinarily, I would shrug off such a tasteless insult that lacked color and originality. The scorn they had in their voices had burned through me, lighting a fire to force me to get to the cause of why I was such a dick.
I began with an apology. I started to try to break my habit of vomiting insults. I knew I created my emotional dominance to get over the loss of my grandma, but it took me weeks to realize that I didn't get over it at all. I simply ignored it. I ignored it, and my grief rushed on stage when I thought about her. After I realized this truth, I released my captive emotions.
It would seem that I institutionalized my emotions. Now, I constantly feel sad over my loss, but I still pretend to be happy around my friends, I still get angry about racism, and I still throw out the creative insults. I now feel empathy, and that makes me feel like a person.
I am glad to have such good friends.
I pushed my friends away in the form of a witty and unnecessary remark. I thought it was funny. My friends knew they were meant to be nothing more than a joke. Sometimes words are sharper than daggers, and my friends were done with that. They (Harrison in particular) told me I was a dick. I was being too mean for no good reason. Ordinarily, I would shrug off such a tasteless insult that lacked color and originality. The scorn they had in their voices had burned through me, lighting a fire to force me to get to the cause of why I was such a dick.
I began with an apology. I started to try to break my habit of vomiting insults. I knew I created my emotional dominance to get over the loss of my grandma, but it took me weeks to realize that I didn't get over it at all. I simply ignored it. I ignored it, and my grief rushed on stage when I thought about her. After I realized this truth, I released my captive emotions.
It would seem that I institutionalized my emotions. Now, I constantly feel sad over my loss, but I still pretend to be happy around my friends, I still get angry about racism, and I still throw out the creative insults. I now feel empathy, and that makes me feel like a person.
I am glad to have such good friends.