Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Just Me Pouring My Bottled-up Feelings Out by Writing This Sh*t Up

I poured my bottled-up feelings out by writing this sh*t up. Content warning: may be full of metaphors.

No matter how much you try to keep your sh*t together, Life will just keep throwing everything at you.

Let's say it's throwing lemons at you. You make lemonade right? Or plant the seeds and pass the lemons it bore to other people. But what if the lemons are too much? What if you already had enough of lemonade? Sure you could always sell lemonade, but it's tiring to make lemonade and lemonade business isn't a great business idea anyway.

Bah. What am I talking about? Did something happen to me you ask? Well, yes. A lot has happened to me. We're still in the upper half of the month and a torrent of catastrophes hit me, flooding everything and drowning me in the process. I didn't really drown, because I swam. I swam hard to the surface. I grabbed the hands of the people who tried to save me. But sometimes, you don't want to be saved, and just wanna drown, so I let my hand slip from their grasp, and let the waves wash me away from the shore.

Still, I floated in the sea of sadness. I let the wind carry me. But it couldn't carry me, because I was too heavy. I was loaded with my pain and problems and all. I guess it was too much for the wind. Is this the end? Should I stop hoping? I did stop hoping. I raised my arms, closed my eyes, and let life beat me up. I was done.

But instead, I felt a pat on my back. I opened my eyes and saw Life hugging me, telling me it's sorry. It just wanted to see how much pain I could handle, and it saw that it crossed the line, that it inflicted too much pain, so it stopped. It started nurturing me with rhetorics, handed me gifts, made me remember who I was, and who I am now. It said that it really was sorry.

So I decided to give it another chance. I suffered martyrdom. Accepted everything and moved on. I went on my way and did everything to heal my wounds, mend the scars, fix everything that was bent.

But then Life got possessed by Evil. It decided to tear me to shreds again. It took an axe, and cut me apart, like lumber for the fireplace.

Still, I forgave it. It wasn't its fault. It was Evil's. So I just took glue and put myself together again and went on. I won't achieve anything if I just sulk in the corner. I haven't cried about it yet. I just... laughed. I don't even know why.

I opened the book of rhetorics Life gave me.

"Let us smile at our problems and forget that we have them in the first place."

I remember. I was the one who wrote this. And with that, everything was better.

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Everything I have written so far is a metaphor. So what was I talking about? Well, I'm going to talk about it now.

The past two months have been long yet quick. I was happy to be back in school and to be continuing to work with my DMMAxim (student publication) family. It's sad that it won't be happening now, working with them, that is. I won't go into further details. I've tried explaining it to people again and again and it's tiring to be redundant. Also, I've moved on, so I don't have to go back in that mess again.

With unrequited love adding to the weight, it wasn't easy. But I've already moved on, too. I know it wasn't meant to be. It always has been platonic.

I've cut strings and burned bridges. There's no need to go back into that pit anymore. I drew and wrote things that would make me feel better. It did make me feel better. I guess I'm 89% done with my mourning period.

Let me conclude this with my favorite rhetoric I made:

"Let us smile at our problems and forget that we have them in the first place." 
                                                                                     — L. Slaybell, 06-07-16

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