What the heck is your problem? I try my best to hide you and your squishy side for every single person that comes near. I rather have the world think I’m mad and tough. And feels, you know why! We’ve gone through this before; You should not come out of your peanut butter jar unless I want you to!
For the simple reason that: I want them to think that I am a tough cookie without any mushy emotions. To come off as a bad ass, someone who doesn’t give an ounce of a rat’s anus about what others think.
Not that I truly am as cold as the cold wind blows. I just don’t want to come across as weak. Untouchable, unbreakable, you know; cool and awesome. Yet, obviously with a soft center for things that truly matter. Things like; Faith, integrity, truthfulness, animals and the desire to want to make the world a better place for all. That sort of stuff. Feelings, other than friendship, are just not what I want to deal with. Nope, they are not for me.
The feels should remain safely locked away. Because when the feels do get out, things get all weird and creepy and unhealthy and aint nobody got time for that!
But then that little shit comes by, and what do you do? You stutter and get weak in the knees. And why the heck are you blushing? What the flying donkey poo is up with this crap? Just because that little shit passes by, the feels are ALL over the place?! Why? It is ridiculous! An outrage!
Thankfully most of the times I find the strength to suppress you. You are not the boss of me, feels. I am the boss of you! I can ignore you and pretend you are not there for a very long time. And thus, I focus on my work. I focus on what needs to be done. And whenever the occasion arises that the little shit needs to be addressed, I keep a safe distance at all time. It is best that way. It is best for the little shit. It is best for me. For everyone. Period.
Yet for some unknown reason, you slither yourself through me like a filthy sickness. You stare at the poor shit for no reason. Why are you looking at the little shit like that? It is creepy! Stop it! And what in the hell was that stupid attempt to small-talk all about? It sounded like verbal diarrhea!
Feelings, are you not aware that you are making things a whole lot more complicated and absurdly awkward than they should be? I could really do without your antics. Seriously. Why must you mess things up like this? Can you not see that it is leading to nothing but creepiness and unwanted frustration? Why must you fail me so miserably, feels? Why?
Do me and the world a favor: Go away. Your best bet is to stay hidden in the jar of peanut butter where you came from! And for the love of glob, stay there! You are not wanted here, stupid feelings!