The tin man

Trading feelings for thinkings...

I have had this dream, for years now, of morphing into someone who just doesn't give a damn. Of harnessing the ability I have witnessed, countless times in others, to simply shut off and be numb. Sounds foolish, I am sure, to dream of being numb, cut off from the part of the brain that feels emotional pain. Even as my fingers glide across the modern and fluid keyboard, I imagine reading these words, if they weren't my own, and scoffing at the ludicrous nature of my little dream.

In reality, I know that I would be less of who I am now if feelings were somewhat of a memory. If I didn't have two big hearts, one to pump life through my veins and one whose seeming role is to pump emotive energy through my system and out of my eye balls, I would be a different person. This I know to be true. So, my dream, like so many, is unrealistic. I continue to pay thousands of dollars in loans to educational institutions and still, no one has taught me to separate.

I attempt to picture boxes on shelves. Lids haphazardly balanced on the top four corners because there is simply too much to fit neatly. Boxes of emotive goo. Full of blurted out phrases and irrational day dreams. Labeling the boxes is where my photographic mind gets stumped. Some of the moments I've attempted to package away would have titles that easily jump from the center of my tongue to the tip and through the lips. Other moments, I would be left searching. An old woman still attempting to grasp the incident fully. If not fully, enough to label.

Although I am able to gaze upon the ones I love dearly and appreciate their emotional goo...I am fed up with my own. When I say, "I don't care." For once, I'd like to mean it. To embody those words to the point of convincing. Just once. For once, when asked if I can help, I want to say "no", plain and simple "no." No explanation needed and if one offered, may it be lack luster and a simple, "Because I don't want to."

Obviously, this will never be me. Those who know me well know that I am incapable of this type of function. But, one can dream, right? One can visualize the grass on the other side, with it's plush, soft, vibrant being.

And for those reading, whom I love with my second heart, I am just fine. This writing just a musing of thoughts once thought. The Avett Brothers "Tin Man" reminds me of how lucky I am to feel. And so...it goes on...

Tin Man

The Avett Brothers

You can't be like me

But be happy that you can't

I see pain but I don't feel it I am like the old tin man

I'm as worn as a stone

I keep it steady as I can

I see pain but I don't feel it I am like the old tin man

I miss it

I miss it

Oh, I miss that feeling of feeling