Emotion Emigrant.

"Now, I dun made up my mind and I won't be moved on dis."

(c) Lazarus, Black Snake Moan.

I need to leave this place(the Republic of Emotionality) only because it makes it impossible to live a productive life. Being purged from someone's life is painful, much more painful than words allow our thoughts to commit to. And what's more, is that voidance reverberates for life encounters to come. It appears that there is a movement developing at this very moment, one of which I never had the foresight to predict or imagine. There is a concerted effort-by those who have occupied my life in some capacity or another- to evacuate and abandon the relationship I have with them. An odd phenomenon. Only because this vacancy calls to question how such an event can happen and not be connected to an elusive message/truth that I'm ignoring about myself. And I'm searching, wondering how I have traversed a path that begets such emotional violence. I feel like I must have been/am a relationship terrorist. That's my only explanation for being removed from the respectful commentary of someone's life. Destroying the lives of those I encounter with malice and blatant disregard for the moral imperative that should govern all human interactions. Maybe I have yet to honestly observe the palpable humanity of those I consider to be close to me. Maybe I have yet to act in that vein, failing to actively honor someone's worth strikes me as being more criminal(thus more punishable) than being ignorant of it.

This reminds me of a piece I wrote called Mr. Unspecial. It came at time that was somewhat similar, in that it was a moment of evacuation. These experiences always manage to organize themselves around extremely imperfect conditions, as if the universe is waiting until you're off balance to catastrophically disrupt/alter your life. While there is infinite value in the growth that is consequential to these episodes, the exhaustion and relationship death are not tangential. In fact, they are unredemptive and impossible to totally recover from.

So in my mind, it is logical to abandon my emotionality for a more rational state of being--read stoic. Why continue to submit yourself to experiences that torture essential aspects of your being--f*ck that, it's insanity. So I'm packing my bags and I'm emigrating to a new emotional(or lack thereof) home. I'm thinking this self-imposed exile will disparage any newcomers, saving my corner of the cosmos from the impending spiritual combustion. The universe has more than enough nebulous matter without the addition of my dysfunctional contribution.