wwwd?

what would wally do, i think that it has a nice ring to it; it was b's idea.... lets run with it.
okay, so i know hate is a strong word but, in the whole part of my soul this is an appropriate time to use it... i hate emotions. i just dont understand the purpose of them. they are messy like melty ice cream on a cone and confusing like quantum physics, and just frankly get in the way of everything. but here is the winner, i think that emotions are dumb. yup, im a huge invalidator, so lets just start dinging that bowl now...

i think though wally [my kick ass grandpa] has it right. it doesnt make sense to be excited or happy or sad. it doesnt change how fast you get over it or how much more quick it comes... you are still stuck in that moment no matter how you feel. i think he is just working on a hard core version of extreme radical acceptance, but, b probs wouldnt agree.

i do however, know where it all comes from....
from the time i was little, i learned that it is wrong to feel a certain way. that crying when you feel sad means that whatever reason you were doing it, it just isnt good enough so you deserve the if you keep crying, then i will give you something to cry about; but, then, you cry more because youre just a little tard who is confused. soon enough though you will have your new reason to be crying... your ass hurts.

through time, you will learn how to stop feeling almost completely; because feelings and emotions are irrelevant. the interesting thing about that  is just because you say you didnt feel it, you do... and the emotions and feelings almost haunt you.

nothing is real.
your mom doesnt shoot up down the hall from your bedroom. she doesnt toke when youre making a sandwich only a earshot away [the hissing when you inhale on a pipe still puts me back to those moments], your electricity isnt out its just some new game she has for the two of you, your dad never hits or other things.... expecially those other things because its how all dads love their girls, those bruises and black eyes, well you see, you were playing catch with your sibs and you just forgot to catch.

you start to teach yourself how to feel, or more of how to forget what you are feeling. mostly everything just turns into anger... youre mad at yourself, youre mad at your parents, youre mad at your friends parents for not saving you, youre mad at your teacher, youre mad at the stupid cashier for letting you use your moms debit card to buy groceries when youre seven. the whole fucking world is meant to be mad at, after all, they wont ever understand what it is like to be you. being mad doesnt make sense so you smile.... because nobody likes to see a sad little girl.

you make your first lines of understanding with a mechanical pencil. after all, words are useless and you cant describe anything to anyone good enough so they understand... so that they believe you... so that they can save you. maybe you can cry then too... because it is proof written in your skin. it is tangible, and real... the marks are on your skin for the world to see. but that was never enough.... mechanical pencils turn into butter knives, and those turn into scalples... after all, your grandpa wont remember that they are hidden in the top drawer of his desk under the bills and stamps.

your have been taught that it is not okay to just have any feelings. you need to have a tangible reason for why you are crying or mad, frustrated or happy. there is no best of both worlds crap; sorry hannah montanah, youre a liar.

happiness damn near destroys you
breaks your faith to pieces on the floor
so you tell yourself, thats enough for now
happiness has a violent roar
-the fray