What Happens After You?

The Comfort of My Jack-In-The-Box.

 I feel like I've exhausted all my feelings lately. Putting them down on paper is my speciality, and my process. Once they're on the paper, they go in the box and they stay there, until they don't anymore. But lately all of the words have been going onto the paper. I've been thinking about all of them, and then putting them away in my box, waiting for them to pop out again. You know that game that we played as a little kid, with the hand crank and the clown? A jack in the box. That's how my mind feels sometimes. There was always that one kid, that would grab the box and try to pry it open with his own fingers. That feels like some people in my life sometimes. But now, I'm turning the wheel and listening to the music when I normally wouldn't touch that thing. Now, I want my ideas and pain and feelings to flow through and reach a piece of paper. I can't tell you if it's healthy or not, because in the end my feelings are still there, but it does something. It reaches the people I love. Oh how I wish I could write music. It makes me feel so much better than writing does. Is that sad? I still love to write. Writing reminds me of my soul. Music however, it stirs up all the things that have settled in the bottom. It stirs up my love and happiness and excitement, and especially my pain. Music makes me feel like nothing else in the world can. Like maybe things don't have to be limited to just what I see. The way that I, and other people express themselves are my favorite things in the world. The things I appreciate most. Wear your goddamn heart and soul on your sleeve. Never exhaust your words. And when you feel like I do, like you're overwhelmed with the feeling of fear that you've exhausted the emotions that fuel your words, I promise you, you haven't. You'll never run out. Even when you think there's nothing left, because people always find comfort in something. And this is my something.