This is Impromptu.

This is not a planned post. This is one from the raw parts of my mind. I am capitalising on the feeling I am feeling in the here and now....


This is not a planned post.
This is one from the raw parts of my mind.
I am capitalising on the feeling I am feeling in the here and now.

I'm currently naked on my bed spewing words frantically onto the computer because I don't want to lose it. I don't want to lose the emotion a week later, and spew it in its clean cut picturesque form smiling back at me. I want it uncomfortably raw. Raw and awkwardly jagged, uncomfortably staring back at me in its cold, yet scorching, expression.

Often, I find that's the way the truth manifests. The truth isn't kind, nor is it sparring. The truth doesn't care for the subsidiary blood it spills or the pain it causes. That's just collateral.

And the truth, for me, (like so many others)  is that I am insecure. I am small and hurt.
Maybe those barrage of words are just synonyms for "human".
Hasn't everyone got that hefty box of emotional shit they're terrified to touch?

The saddest consequence of being made up of flesh and bones isn't that sometimes flesh can tear and bones may break; but it's the pain that persists far beyond the reach where broken bones can be mended.

I am now crying...

Now I'm laughing at myself writing 'I am now crying'. How fluid and tangential emotion is, so god-damn weird.

Although the pang of sadness that came upon me is subsiding, I worry that it'll be back without warning or provocation.

In the meanwhile, I better get dressed.

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