catharsis

It feels great.  Alleviating your body of some soul-crushing truth. That’s catharsis.

You know what it is.

Just let it go–

Through any mastered expression you desire.  Scribble in your journal to lay your thoughts to rest amongst like company.  Create a vlog because you find comfort in speaking to a lens.  Compose a song that you’ll never perform or sing someone else’s.  Dance to your “Shower Jamz!” playlist; everywhere.  Blog.  Talk.  Express.

Maybe you have the gift of gab; go ahead and spill your guts to that one friend who will listen.  They will judge you (HARD) for your moments of lapsed judgement, but you trust their brutal honesty.  That’s why you’ve kept them around for so long.  Also, because being friends and having friends are mutually exclusive for you two.  And I’m not talking about having those run-of-the-mill conversations you’ve dubbed “Keeping Up With The Exes”.  Don’t even get me started on the sex talks.  Like, seriously, dick is always on the mind; the ones we want, the ones we can’t have, and the ones we’ve dated.  This is the glue that has kept gays and girls in such harmonious platonic and sexually repressed matrimony (as if there’s any other form).

All kidding aside, I can attribute moments of resounding relief to meaningful talks with my BFFs.  I know they can say the same about me.  It’s when you call them at 2am because you’re sad-drunk; when you’ve contemplated your purpose on this planet and it amounts to nothing.  That’s the worse kind of drunk when it’s actually happening.  You aren’t really aware of what you’re saying– you’re not even sure if you’re making English.  All you know is your life is suddenly over.  I’ve been there.  You’ve been living atop Repression Hill in your house of denial and the tsunami of booze washes you straight into rock bottom. And it sucks.  And it’s embarrassing.  And it’s the best thing you can do.

If done right, all this mental, and possibly physical, purging will leave you pleasantly empty.  It’s an acceptance of what is and awareness of the future.  It’s the smirk-sigh you do when you’ve completed that perpetually unfinished project.  Turn that into a reserved sense pride.  Believe that where you are now is where you’re supposed to be, with who you’re supposed to be (friends, family, boy/girlfriend, etc.).  Realize that at any given time you are never in the same place as you once were.  Perspective goes a long way.  Hindsight is perverted and poisonous.  Ignore the conventional rules of handling your situation– you’ve been granted access to tools you’ve always had.  Your mind.  Your heart.  Finally aligned.

Find your catharsis.

Let go of the pieces.

Rebuild yourself anew.

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