i'm starting this blog at 12:36 in the morning. those of you who know me know that this is impressively early for me to be starting a blog.

it's rare that i sit down and don't know what to write, but i know i need to. whenever my heart starts to swell and my head starts to stir, the writing indicator is electrified like a the buzz of a tilted neon sign at a local sports bar.

i find being stifled to be incredibly frustrating. i have a hard enough time sitting still, so when thoughts and feelings are withheld, my mind still races through idle situation, and not surprisingly, loses the race. there is no better way to incite the feeling of wanting to explode then to put a cork in whatever bottled emotions are trying to escape. this feeling usually comes from a recipe of having no opportunity to put your cards on the table and a lack of self honesty. airing your dirty laundry requires cooperation from both internal and external forces. when these forces align, catharsis comes over you. catharsis, the antidote to feeling plugged, is one of my favorite feelings.

sometimes catharsis, or letting go in general, is overwhelming in itself. when you've been clinging to an emotion, suctioning to what seems like it's validity, and it's suddenly gone, it's absence can be overpowering. there are few things in life that make less sense than this--the overwhelming power of nothing. what's amazing is whether a situation was in the rearview mirror or at the very forefront of your mind, letting go creates an unbelievable sense of the present.

this weekended yielded itself to a LOT of unexpected internal (and literal) house cleaning. the temperature was right open the emotional floodgates to many tributaries in my life, all of which felt dammed on some level. but if you've done everything in your power, and said all that is left to say, you're left with a void--but oddly a welcome one. or if you're me, you're left with two of your best friends at 51st street unexpectedly and inexplicably crying in front of Saint Anthony's plaque at Saint Patrick's Cathedral.

emotional releases are often provoked by damaged that leaves you broken and/or fumbling through the gray. sometimes it's hard to discern between allowing yourself healing time to pick up the pieces and not being brave enough to get out of your own way and try to move on. you may even trick yourself into thinking that why you initially cared in the first place doesn't apply anymore because it's easier than seeing the situation's ugly face (same applies to the 'Jersey Shore'). but on some level we know we are being cowardly, or even dishonest with ourselves. there's a part of us that was willing to jump into whatever hurt us in the first place, and we should never let extenuating circumstances rob this part of who we are as individuals simply because we were hurdled by that which is outside of us. otherwise it will seize us through ways of dealing with pain that are less than we deserve. it's hard, sometimes all we want is to return to the places we were before the damage; to feel like the fresh, unscathed, and innocent newborns we were before all of the hurt. pain and growth may prevent you from diving headfirst into whatever scarred us initially. but it takes more courage to try again injured than it did to make our first attempt with blinders on. though we may proceed with more caution, we also may continue with a better sense of ourselves. as long as we don't confuse caution for guard, life is pretty okay. and there is no guarantee it will work out in game two, but you sure as hell won't have a shot from the bench. as it's said, "try again. fail again. fail better."

-k.


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