I'm a confessed Bottler

Rarely a late night passes me by without a motley movie of thoughts.

Well, I'm a bottler.
No. I don't work at a brewer (if heaven were to only bless me!) But when I say bottler, I mean when undesirable happens, undesirable gets packaged, wrapped tight, and stored in a closet to be opened never. There's comfort in a dissmisive attitude; no matter what anyone does or says, if its not what I want to hear? *Boxed* Unpleasant? *Boxed * Annoying? *Boxed * Boxed, swallowed and stored in sacrifice to neutrality. Neutrality is a comfortable place where nothing happens, quite unhealthy. So...in essence...
Whatever makes me uneasy gets thrown away projectively in a place I chose to not occupy; my soul. I know the power of my soul well! Its large, powerful and gets me into trouble. Here lies my unpleasantness, my poorness, my cries, and perhaps s joys too. Every compliment I didn't believe placed neatly next to every diss I secretly believed...not from strangers. From those whose lies I bought when the price was too high but the product was shiny, new and smelled tempting..  So like someone who likes shiny new and fragrant things, I paid. Paid with love, with attention, with secrets I regret and especially with my laughs. I love to laughs. And I love my laughs. I love laughs and TO laughs. My laughs mean what you said made me smile and to think my laughs were the result of a charade? It hurts. So to move on forward the best way I know how, I take those hurts and toss them where I can't see them. Although they didn't mean to bring such awesome joy I still genuinely enjoyed it. In all, it is their loss to lose someone who chooses to laugh with you. That's what that soul is about. Memories of good juxtaposed to what was great. Aligned to what scarred and memories of less. What's in your soul?

Namaste