Self-love

I read somewhere, in an article or study, once about how millenials avoid truly feeling their emotions so long as they are negative. It stated that they attempt to cover up the feeling before understanding it first. The first thought that came to mind was that if Fyodor Dostoevsky were born in 1999, he wouldn’t have written shit. He wouldn’t have been as wise as his writing was when exploring his solitude and would have merely attempted to find a superficial method to disguise it before allowing it to be understood.

The second thought was the fact that Charles Bukowski was right. ‘Don’t be so consumed with self-love’ was as wise as it was when I first argued against it. Self-love is beautiful. Yet anything that has the power to consume you is as worthless as beauty without evoking emotions. To feel beautiful has become a task once heartfelt is felt. ‘Take a shower and make yourself feel beautiful’. I was told that the minute I discussed the heartbreak I felt then. I did that, actually. Yet I wish I would have been told to turn it into something that I can respect.

‘Make a podcast about it. Turn it into poetry and display how your heart bled at a local poetry slam. Fucking paint it until the paint dries and it synchronizes with your tears. Dance until crying looks hilarious and stupid alongside your moves. Make a short film that makes you realise how shit you are at filming and the editing gives you anxiety, smoke until you hate it because by then, you’ll realise how useless it is to cry for too long. Do something that makes you remember that which you could control, instead of the pain, the moment you look back at the day you felt sadness. Understand what makes you feel weak and what makes you feel nostalgic. Diferentiate them when you think about them. Go somewhere and think of how lovely the setting is for someone recovering and developing their sense of emotions, rather than a waste of time due to the lack of company. Cry while walking to the bus and show people that there is no reason to hide it. That sadness is as much of an emotion as the ones they present. Yet more real and more often felt. Ask your teacher about sadness. Own the emotion we have created a temporary embarrassment for. The one that we lock in a room until that ‘self-love’ dissolves it. Feel. Fucking feel.’

 

That is what I wish I would have been told.

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