I’m not always like this, I’ll have you know. The outward misery, or whatever? Sometimes I do love life. And when I do, I feel like my capacity for this loving of life is far greater than most people experience. That’s the thing about being emotionally unstable. The lows are definitely low, as we’ve already proven. But the highs, holy shit.
Do you ever get that thing? Where you can’t take a deep enough breath, because the air feels so good that you will simply never have enough of it? And the spaces between your shiny, grinning teeth… these spaces are not big enough to give you the massive gulp of fresh air that your spirit really desires? And the song that’s playing. The song gives you the chills and the goosebumps and the standing-up-hairs-on-your-neck-like-a-cat, all at the same time? And you wish your lips were fuller and stretchier so it wouldn’t hurt to smile this much and this big? And you can feel the blood pumping through your entire body that you know and understand is full of muscles that are all just fucking READY? To move and flex and move some more? And you want to jump out of a moving car, not because you want to die, but because you just want to feel more physical sensation RIGHT NOW even if it means certain doom? And talking? TALKING?? To someone who’s really LISTENING? Someone who’s TALKING back, but never out of turn, because they have good manners and they are just as engaged in your thoughts as they are in theirs??
My point is this. THESE are the reasons I’m not dead. This is what I wait for. I hope to grow up a bit more, and come to a place where I can feel this way more and more often than the low low alternative. I think someday, I can do it. I hope so, anyway.
But. My other point. I’m not just a sad misanthrope. Sometimes the human experience is better than I ever could have imagined. So. Don’t get shit twisted, okay?