Writing is cathartic. That’s what they say. My natural inclination here is to Google the word catharsis, and give a textbook definition, and then riff off of that, but instead I’m going to just go from my gut. Catharsis is the ejection of bullshit, usually in the form of an emotion, that if left inside, will fester, and rot, and ultimately undo an organism.
I haven’t been a catharting lately. This is clear because I had a dream that disturbed me so greatly that I woke up, face covered in tears. That might also be the sign of an underlying problem. Crying isn’t something I do often. Pixar movies and the occasional sad dream it seems. Maybe I need some emotional catharsis, on top of the written variation?
Why does it come back? Why does one need constant catharsis? And if not constant, then periodical. Something that is just broken can be fixed, and it’s done. There’s no need for constant maintenance. This makes life seem flawed. Like something that has a slow leak that will never be patched. Something that has a hole that will never be filled. The second image is necessary for pacing, but it also takes a step further towards a tone than I’d really rather not use, on facebook of all places, but (if ever there was a better place for this phrase, I don’t remember it) c’est la vie