Once more, with Feeling

While feeling has its pits and the sporadic stab, generally, it is a wonderful thing.

I now wonder why I used to deny it and hide behind the entire stoic façade. None of us go unscathed anyway. So why not just lose yourself in the emotion and feel the way you do? And doesn’t it feel absolutely rewarding when you let out that raging fit? When you’re pushed to extremities and no other recourse is in sight except to unleash the beast and have a bitch fit, a part of you feels like you owe it to yourself, like you’re fully alive (albeit kicking and screaming like a maniac), like you’re unapologetically human and absolutely allowed to feel the way you do.

You can have highs and lows, go psycho and back, and still be alright.

You can feel nervous—running into “enemies” you haven’t seen for long, feel like a fool for even feeling the slightest fear and nudge in the gut, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, because they don’t anyway, at least not to you.

You can feel bad—when your Mother tells you that she’s disappointed that the people you consider your “friends” can’t even come to your defense, that they continue to rub elbows with the same assholes who stabbed you, in the front, back and the sides.

You can feel even worse—when she reminds you that it’s easy for these “friends” to say “It’s okay. Just forget about it. Get over it” because they’re not in your position, that they refuse to get their hands dirtied because it makes their lives easier,

You can feel damned—when she makes you realize that these ‘friends’ who avoid the bullet and allow you to take the hit, may not be real “lifetime” friends after all.

You can feel safe—when you’re a little tipsy and taken home by the single person you’d want to see at the end of your day.

You can feel triumphant—when you singlehandedly learn the Running Man or the Roger Rabit, all off Youtube Videos.

You can be surprised—when you find yourself making people laugh, even without attempting to.

You can be put off—when you’re answered quite rudely by a person you politely asked a question.

You can feel giddily mushy—even at the expense of your tightly barbed pride.

You can feel sly—when you do crazy things on the road.

You can feel triumphant—being nice to unhappy and mean-spirited people. (Trust me, it confuses them and kills them afterwards)

You can feel sheepish— after being told you have a nice voice.

You can experience regret—thinking past decisions to be possible mistakes.

You can feel accomplished—after doing the most inane or minor of tasks.

You can be excited about tomorrow—because it’s all you have after today.

You should be grateful for life—because you’re one lucky duck for having it, living it and experiencing it.