Chronicles Of The Battles Of My Mind—Emotional Dissecting
I am pretty sure there is always a reason for them to be around. They are persistent and resilient even. Tears however, seem to speak to us somehow. They carry intricate news, whether they are good or bad; whether these are in perfect timing or inconveniently out of place. They are with no doubt always present.
I decided to follow them for a while. I decided to enter
each and every track until I could be certain of a pattern or at least a common
purpose for a plan. What I found in the middle of this quest nevertheless, was
not encouraging. Tears carry way more than just time, places and stories. Tears
are able to engulf every single thread of emotional stance we thought we once
knew.
They possess an uncanny power to deliver energy to a
heartbeat, to the creation of sighs and so many unrealized dreams. They tend to
aim inwards and expose the reality from an internal perspective. They are able
to dig deeper within the soul of men. This is where darkness finally finds the
light, and where our hidden treasures of disillusion rise from painful undiscovered
depths. The chest begins to grow, the blood pressure spikes, and life itself
seems to gradually and slowly die.
Air is removed from the lungs. The brain begins to feel the
deprivation of the much needed oxygen levels, and the emotional chaos witnesses
its genesis. This is known as the emotional dissection that can either
construct or destroy. Inside the spam on only one second there is control and
lucidity, but over the next, there is a sense of an overwhelming uncertainty
and pain. Basically, you can’t breathe, and you are then unable to think.
Rationale then meets unconsciousness.
My tears carry a lot! They hold on to so many answered
questions, so many unsolicited memories and, oh so much thinking! Thread by thread
this hemisphere of vast body composition collapses in time and space, and tears
insist to surprise with the cameo appearances and without invitation. They even
arrive without the courtesy of a warning.
There are open roads ahead. There are plenty of miles of
road ahead waiting to be walked on. We in the meantime, continue to crawl, walk
and eventually run. The end however, remains the same: my heartbeat and its everlasting
echo persist while emotions continue to be shaped. Rationality is now defined
by hope, and hope transforms the tear into a half-formed smile.
I am pretty sure there is always a reason for them to be
around. They are persistent and resilient even. Tears however, have only one
thing in their minds: their relentless and defiant presence, wanted or
unwanted, in the middle of my very own emotional dissecting!
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