In the past, the heart was considered the seat of thought, reason and emotion by ancient civilizations, notably, the Greeks as suggested by Aristotle. But in time we discovered that the seat of everything that controls human reason and emotion is the brain. The heart’s just an organ that pumps the vital blood and fluids throughout the body via the arteries and is also responsible for refreshing them with oxygen via the veins. The heart’s just an organ, nothing but a pumping mass of muscle…

Or so I thought. I’ve dwelt too much on the complexity of the mind that I’ve forgotten the simple truth of the heart, that is, that we feel. I’ve let my thoughts overpower my emotions, that way, I thought, I wouldn’t get hurt. But no, I feel a hurt within me, and where does it hurt? Right here, at my chest, at my heart. If the mind was truly the seat of human reason and emotion, then why does it hurt here? Why don’t I have a headache or something? Why does it have to hurt in the heart?

How sweet to feel such bitter reprises of things past. I’ve hated and loved myself over and over again, like seasons ever changing in this uncertain world. Why do I feel these emotions over and over again? Have I not learned, or am I just foolish? My mind remembers my blunders and learning from it, I strive to be a better man. My heart, on the other hand, remembers, but still gets hurt. My naive, foolish heart. You’ve loved someone who can’t love you back. Now look at you, you’re hurt and you’re broken… My naive, foolish heart.

I’ve dreamt of a world devoid of emotions. I wonder what it would be like, what I would see, what I would discover. A world without emotions would certainly be an organized world, a utopia of peace, an epitome of excellence. But then again, it would be a dull world, devoid of color, of hope, of love… of life. While we may solve the mysteries of the universe, discover the panacea for our afflictions, ultimately gain world peace, among others, in a world withheld of feeling, I admit, it’ll be a dull and boring world. Emotions add the vivid colors to life; they add salt and spice to our bland lives; they are the very reason why we think, without them, who would bother asking our purpose in life? Who would bother love his neighbor? Who would bother picking up the trash? Who would bother living at all?

It really hurts inside… So many words to say, so many things to do, so many thoughts to contemplate, yet they pale in comparison to the emotions I need to feel. How pleasant it would be to end this all, to pull the trigger, to thrust the knife, to drink the bitter pill, to jump off into nihility, to fly away, never to return again… But no, that is not the way a man should go, that is not the way I shall go. Enough has been said, now it must be done.

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