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My feelings and all the other things.

For quite a long time, I was dipped in apathy. I was totally okay with it, regardless where it was slopping me into. I knew it wouldn't end well, yet I couldn't care less as I had already reached the point where I loathed all the kinds of emotions. I kept constantly reminding myself that I don't need to feel or to live or to survive, and that was when I actually let go of everything I have always been clinging to, and ran from everyone I have always stuck to their back. I found myself sarcastically mocking everyone who showed their feelings; I called everything feelings-related 'crap', totally blinding myself from seeing how blurry my mind has become and how cold my soul has turned to. I couldn't care less. I used to get all the kinds of "Okay" and "hmm" for sounding so heartless and dispassionate about what anyone would tell. I honestly didn't care because they all sounded shallow and hereafter, I would spend time on my own thinking about nothing but blankness accompanied with self-loathe for staying at the wrong place at the wrong time. I was feeling so disoriented and never belonged anywhere, not even to my own world. My aversion to everything was beyond my capability, all sugar-coated with abhorrence to any form of feelings. I faked a lot and got lost within my yellow smirks of intolerance. Everything pissed me off that I reached the point that I would feel so pissed off at myself. I believed in my self-made up theory that feelings would make one age faster than days. I believed that apathy will drive me to roads of inner peace and serenity as long as I cut off all the kinds of interactions.
I was wrong.
Turning points had to occur and things changed in time. I aged faster and grew old at heart. I saw those grey quiffs get longer and I didn't know how to feel. I was sore and I needed someone to introduce me to the art of feeling all over again. I regretted burning all the bridges into my life. There was no turning back; I was too tired to build new ones and I got locked up in my own bubble. I ended up being silenced, emotionally suppressed and sober. I couldn't feel unconscious about those voids and broken strings. No alcohol would fill them up because they would get constantly sucked into me, fueling me with more self-loathe. I realized that there is no escape from feelings and I was just an idiot forcing myself to fend off the fact the apathy itself is a kind of (negative) emotions.
Out of all those turning points that occurred to my real life and day-dreams, you were the most relevant thing that occurred. It lured me in an unusual way because I never thought I would fall for you amid all my ruins. I got back my senses and wrote down my feelings. I schooled me without noticing and I wished that you knew. I gradually got fixed and my pieces and ashes were all put back in shape. I felt alive and I knew it was feelings. I needed them and always had as much as I needed you and still do right now. It didn't last for long before I realized that I couldn't fix you either. It took you a lighter and you smoked me up and I was suddenly back into ashes, all scattered and blended with feelings (for you) that I was so confused to have and so scared and clingy to let go of.

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