Sunday, October 14, 2012

Born heartless

I haven't much time, but the need to write this outweighed the need to sleep and I feel the need to express my feelings at thought.

There was once a time, not too long ago, when I wished I was born heartless.  I pondered on how it would feel not to have a care in the world, to shrug off feelings like it was no one's business and to never know how true passion really felt.  This all came about because I realized I knew someone who was born this way and they actually made me think for five minutes my life would fair in my defense if I carried no emotion.

What was I thinking?

What is love without being hurt?  I rather feel pain than not.  I rather take chances, fall on my knees and struggle with unlimited feelings.  If I didn't know this then what would I be - inhuman?

These days I'm angry about lost chances and missed signals, but you know what - it is in all this craziness that I feel alive.  I feel that the person deep down inside feels this way because I care and because I'm not afraid to be expressive and act upon my emotions.

I feel sorry for the one who made me think for a mere five minutes that my life would be better if I acted as they did.  I know the truth lies in my artistic side - the one that allows me to speak through others, for others and share stories.  I love that I do this and even if my stories only touch one person and that person is me then I still accomplished what I set out to do.  I live for my emotions, I live through my emotions and I do these things because I never want to be heartless.

Maybe one day you'll see the million possibilities that exist from wearing your heart on your sleeve and maybe you never will, but as for me - I know passion supersedes me and sets me apart from lifeless bodies that will miss out on life simply because they choose to replace their heart with emptiness.

I prefer to keep my heart full, so just like my belly I feel content and the opportunities that exist for me to shuffle through my true emotions are priceless.