I don’t have feelings. I hurt feelings.
Or at least that’s how I would like to appear in the made-for-tv-movie of my life, that will air exclusively on Lifetime Network, after reruns of the Golden Girls.
I am a liar.
Of course everyone gets chafed, woebegoned, bonkers, vindictive, seedy, chipper, punchy, ethereal… I know lots of names for emotions. Why else would people insist on using emoticons, other than to help explain this aggregate that is known as the human experience? Some folk are quite astute at classifying sadness, happiness, and hatred. This is another good quality I do not possess. I don’t know if I am a rusty nail, or out of practice, or what. But when someone asks the loaded question: how does this make you feel, or how do you feel about this, or what are your feelings- I am stumped.
I would say that I’m more like a caveman or a neanderthal when it comes to these delicacies of self expression. I like the concrete. A question that I would adore to answer is:
What color are lobsters? Indigo.
Isn’t indigo the most lovely sounding of colors?
The crux of my disabilities is that I do not have a chart to consult, that will aid me in describing these burning yearning emotions, that pass through my heart and funnel to my brain, and get clouded in the medulla oblongata . Let’s find a solution.
And Zeus said let there be a chart to describeth the emotions that Caroline canst fathom or explain. PSB some of the most common feelings that possess me day to day.