A Fortunate Feeling


Why are we so afraid to let ourselves feel?

Why do we cut back the joy we feel in order to save it for some other time?

Why is it that we ration our tears and store them inside?

Are we more afraid of what will come after that or do we fear that if we feel it all right now we might run out of it for the next time?

Next time. Next time. Next time.

We live in the fear of tomorrow. We hold ourselves back from feeling it all today lest we feel nothing at all tomorrow.

We repress and suppress and seal it tight. Save it from spilling out from the edges before tomorrow. Some other time.

We build the pressure around our heart with such force. You know what scares me the most? That the pressure with which I force my feelings down might only leave a fossil of a heart behind.

Allow yourself the dignity to feel. Sorrow, pain, joy, hurt, anger, solitude. Let your heart live the purpose of your humanity. Vulnerability does not scar. It heals the wounds caused by the cracks of last time. 

I know you’ll say it’s elitist bullshit, to not worry about the future. It’s true these systems and methods and institutions do not allow us with the ability to think of today. They’re built to make us only wish for tomorrow. But have you ever stopped to wonder what all this running and achieving and maintaining will actually give? We hope it gives us contentment, but no. It’ll only leave a shrivelled corpse of unachieved wisdom behind. The wisdom we kept pushing for another date on the calendar.

Tomorrow might never come, my love. The sun might burn us down before we choose to sit back and think of what we haven’t felt. Stop cutting away your lonely pieces before you run out of yourself. Bind your crevices with the strength of your tears and accompany yourself in your hard times. 

It’s a privilege in itself to be able to store for tomorrow. But it is also cowardice to not let yourself be in the midst of the beautiful hurricane of emotions inside you. To learn how to feel is to learn how to live. 

As someone very rightly said, to make yourself feel nothing so as to not feel anything, what a waste of time. Feel. Let your tears wash down the fiery deluge of your inner hell. Close your eyes and let sorrow run her hands through your hair. Let your head by cradled by your solitude. Shut down your system and press later on the button of your ordered chaos.

Be human once again.

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Srishti is a brown, bisexual mess of anxiety and nerves. Her train of thoughts travel at crazy speeds, cross crossing each other, never staying put. She believes in the power of self expression and introspection, which are her two main motives to write. Srishti is currently an undergraduate English literature student at SGTB Khalsa College, Delhi University. She aims to write for big production houses and impact millions of lives just like her idols and inspirations do, but impacting even a handful of lives would be a good start.
Srishti Berry

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