Work Text:
Meraki (Greek) — (v) to do something with soul, creativity, or love; when you leave a piece of yourself in your work
How thoroughly these emotions course through your veins, and you sometimes wonder what good they are, especially if they bring you sorrow and anger, as they sometimes do. You experience a battery of concern and fervor, grief and shame — your heart aches, and you may feel alone, that spiteful lack of control over your own state of mind. The floodgates open, and you may not have the restraint to block the rushing water. It comes, ready or not, and you spill over in a storm of confusion.
You feel, but you do not understand, for logic, while tucked neatly away in the crevices of your thought, doesn't always pair with the intensity that you experience in emotion.
And then how do you explain yourself to others? They may be troubled for you, but still — there are no words that can express how mountainous your frustration is, and yet you feel a pang of guilt because you do not wish to shift a portion of your silly burden onto your loved ones.
Petty. Your problems are small in reality, though they occupy a disproportionate amount of leverage in your heart. You know this; you also know that it would be best for you to breathe in and let go. Scream into a pillow. Hold your breath and count to ten.
Don't be ridiculous. Such simplicity doesn't work.
Emotions are far more convoluted. In fact, oftentimes, they contradict one another. You feel grief when you should be livid. You want to strangle him, but you also want to embrace him. You think you've been wronged, though you should have known better.
Disappointment. Melancholy. Contempt. Humiliation. Agitation.
Words. We use words to describe our emotions, but the words are just that — there are many other facets to what we bear in our hearts than just a handful of words. Words only communicate. What really matters is what spurs the words, the fire in the soul.
And how do you alleviate that pain and frustration? You tell a story. You mold words in a way that suits you, crafting and weaving them through sentences until they may reflect the sincerest truth. You share what you feel with others, and show them the nooks and crannies of your mentality, delivering a message far more powerful than just the sum of its parts.
Eventually, the emotions, left bare and out in the open — they fade and numb, and that brings you reprieve because you had felt so hopeless before. And when you understand what you are feeling and accept that you may not always be consistent, you are freed from the cage of assumptions and categorizations.
You are more than just the words that describe your emotions. You are more than the story you tell — you are the story you tell.
You speak and you write, you dance and you sing. You steal the stars from the night and only imagine what they would look like during the day. You follow the geese, flocking to warmer waters when the frigid air begins to creep in. Your fingertips grace the keys of your computer, and you only hope that your voice can be heard through the words and into the hearts of others.
