It is a choice… a choice to feel, however I feel for those who have not a choice. They are so overburdened with the power to feel, they just don’t stand a chance in this storm that tears and howls at the heart strings. To make matters worse they often don’t even recognize it until it’s too late. They’ve been so blinded by feeling their whole life, that once they start to gain some sense outside of emotion, it becomes apparent that they have felt all too deeply. This is usually their end. They try to put to paper the endless stream of tears that may or may not show. More often than not it consumes them; a fire they can not wield. They end themselves. Be it through a long drawn out sprawl of life defined by sadness and brief moments of extreme joy or early on rather than put on a truly disorienting act escaping into the minds of others. Rarely there is the occurrence that one chooses happiness and unlocks the understanding that sadness reaches its lowest point, ending with death, while happiness has no limits. No man will ever put his smile down and gesture, “No more joy, I shall have no more laughter for I have had my fill.” One realizes that despite being ‘full’ of happiness and jubilant to the point of potential explosion, one will not actually explode. That is because happiness expands, it grows, spreads, and multiplies. Indeed it is contagious. A contagion worth spreading. This happiness further lives on, even beyond the life of the individual from whom it stemmed. This is when the searcher has found what was being sought, concluding it had been within all along – That it is a choice!
Monologues to Self