Wellsprings and Stoppers.
I find myself troubled by feelings. Somehow I find myself in the uncomfortable duality of being both an emotive, expressive person and at the same time calculating and stoically rational. I try my hardest to keep people at arms length, for fear of being undone perhaps, or the inevitable cruelties famalirity tend to visit upon any eventual paring. Its as though sudden swells of sentiment I feel jarred by, disconnected from. I find myself studying my feelings as though they were a sudden wound I wasn't aware I could feel. I press my fingers against it, study the metaphorical blood. Pause. Feel uncertianly ponderous of the causes. I'm capable of unflenching honesty about so many things that I notice others can't begin to get a grip on and I seem to get hung up on being able to feel anything. I find myself at times standing with my mouth agape, amazed that its even slightly possible....then somewhat concerned at how quickly that faint heartswell has been thought, or willed away. I want to be able to understand all the drum and strang that pertains to all things romantic that I've had hammered into my head from Disney movies and melodramatic pop songs. I find myself resenting that I can't connect to the concepts behind the happily ever after, and perhaps I've always been dimly aware of the possibility its never been meant for horses of my color. I from time to time find myself grappling with that resignation, and wonder which of the emotions are false. The sticky obnoxious gushing of sentiment, the caluclating rationalization of cynicism, or the oblivious tendency I have not to notice any of the above until the moment's nearly past...