So many questions, I need an answer
Or do I?
I’ve always wanted things reasonable. Who doesn’t? Not that I’m an idealist-perfectionist, but it’s just that there is a grim kind of comfort in things being known, in things having feasible, tight and logical explanations. Boring?
Yes.
I have never been a huge fan of emotions. The heart, most especially. I hate it when it starts pounding inside your chest uncontrollably, your knees succumbing to the deep dark rhythm that seems to unlock the very hinges that give support to your body.
The heart is an involuntary muscle — so much so that, at times, it interrupts your existence.
Ironic.
It’s been a fantastic conundrum, emotions. That’s why I’ve always wanted to give feelings some semblance of form - to define it. Maybe that’s why I obsess about art, music and poetry — in some (again) inexplicable way they seem to lend emotions a melody, a color, a figure that I can recognize, and perhaps comprehend. Still, everything eludes me.
It terrifies me, not just because I cannot seem to understand it, but even more so because the only thing I know is that I don’t want to bathe in the grim kind of comfort reason provides anymore.
Emotions are wild, and it is terrifying because we all know we’re drawn to its reckless abandon.