On irrational insecurities:

Enclosed in wax, stiff, and secure… The ideal type for those unwilling to grasp reality, that dynamics of life, ever-changing in every way drag us about, like being tied to a raging bull by the feet in mud infested marshes. Must we really have the non-logical fears grabbing hold of us in some sort of claustrophobic manner? The fact is we tend to over-react to minuscule dilemmas and/or problems. Intentionally failing to understand circumstances under certain terms, generalizing every factual aspect in front of us. Some sort of natural sadomasochistic instinct to block us from thinking straight, hurting ourselves. Every stereotypical emo’s fantasy…
We tend to think about the forthcoming pain, when in fact there is no pain at all. The fear that builds the pain, rendering it into some form of reality, choking ourselves into despair and melancholy.
Confusion… of what to feel, how we feel it, and the norms of when and where. Misplaced and unsolved, we then zombify ourselves into a relentless frenzy of regrets of what we should have done in the past.
The fact is there was nothing to be done, a path chosen out of chances and options that were there, static and waiting, until the tides of time sweep those very chances and options dragging them away with little hope of ever resurfacing.
But yet here we are… back to regretting those times past and lost. Waiting for a glimpse of it, those lost and dead pasts, in search of redemption and justification of our then unstable egos.
But what has past, has past, and the future is ever changeable. So we justify ourselves to move on and rest our heads on the dynamics of life, accepting the empirical calming the irrational insecurities.

Yet, despite these kind words of logic, the emotional thought has its own flowchart in mind, bending realities into mush abstract uncertainties, numbing and invisible. Cocooning us back into those wax coffins in which we reside.

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